


Tangible

by brycedearings



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brycedearings/pseuds/brycedearings
Summary: When the subject of fantasies comes up in bed, Lois and Clark quickly take a trip down memory lane- recounting the times they self-indulged, thinking about each other. It quickly turns into a game of show and tell as they relive through the sensations and emotions.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Lois Lane, Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Clois - Relationship, Lois and Clark - Relationship
Comments: 42
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

Their lips are fused together, legs a tangled mess as they lay on their bed. They’d gotten rid of their shirts before their bodies even touched the mattress, and now his hands worked to rid of her jeans as she did the same to him.

The sun had long since set, casting the room in darkness except for the soft light of the full moon- peeking just outside of their bedroom window.

They share a laugh when she struggles to push down his pants with merely her legs, and Clark has to stand to pull off the offending object before he’s on top of her, teeth clashing as their lips meet again.

His hands quickly unclasp her crimson laced bra, mouth hastily working its way to her jawline before settling on her neck, sucking on her pulse.

“Mmm,” she sighs under his ministrations, his mouth licking and nipping, “Clark...”

He hums against her, trailing wet kisses further down until he gets to valley between her breasts, making sure to mark each freckle with his tongue.

“Clark,” Lois groans, this time needier as her hips buck into him, feeling his growing desire.

“Yeah?” His voice is muffled as he begins to pay homage to her breasts, and she has to muster up as much energy as she could to continue speaking.

“I- _oh fuck yeah_ ,” her eyes flutter as his mouth covers a peak, licking and tugging at it, “tell me- _shit_ \- tell me a fantasy.”

It takes a full two seconds, but he pauses his movements, pulling back to look down at her with a crooked smile, “What?”

Lois takes advantage of the moment to take a breath, “I want to know what your fantasies are.”

“Lois,” his hands settle on her upper arms, running slow circles with his thumbs, “I thought we talked about this before. You are,” he starts to lean down before she stops him with a hand to the chest.

She rolls her eyes, “Smallville, that was sweet, but it’s not what I mean.”

His confused expression makes her bite her lip. Man of steel or not- he could be so damn oblivious sometimes.

“I mean... what are some of your- bedroom fantasies? I know we’ve,” she runs a foot up his leg, arching herself into him, “done a lot of things.”

“Our sex life isn’t exactly vanilla,” he agrees with a groan.

Lois chuckles linking her hands behind his neck, “No it’s not, but... I’m still curious,” her eyes narrow, studying his features, “What kind of fun and sexy ideas does my superhero have?”

Clark tilts his head, thinking for a moment. Her words took him by surprise. They’d indulged in quite a few sexual endeavors in their time together. It’d only been a year, but they’d already christened every possibly surface- and wall- of their small apartment. They’d had their share of fun at the Planet- after-hours and a few times during work. They weren’t shy about trying new positions or places, for that matter. Hell, he’d gotten her off when he took her flying one time.

They’d role played and dressed up for one another- she knew he had affinity for her many costumes, and she’d had this fantasy of Clark in his football letterman jacket. They’d used handcuffs. Had sex at the barn, on the porch swing- until it broke- on rooftops and any body of water, be it the lake or shower.

“I’m not sure there’s something we haven’t-“ Suddenly, his hands cease their movements, eyes glossing over, and Lois knows something had crossed his mind.

She grins, “Alright, Smallville, spill it. What’s it gonna be? Do I need to take out the whips and chains?”

His eyes widen comically before shaking his head, “What? No,” he lowers himself, shifting to move so he’s turned more to the side.

She waits him out, curiosity and excitement piqued.

“I want you to show me,” he whispers against her lips.

Lois blinks, “What?”

He smiles, soft and sweet, but his eyes darken to a murkier shade of blue and she swallows.

“Show me,” he repeats, softer this time. His hand rests below her breast now, fingers caressing the skin lightly.

Lois shivers at the touch, his tone not helping to obscure the level her arousal had reached.

“Clark,” she laughs, “you’re gonna have to add a few more words.”

He grins, a low chuckle leaving him as he leans down, nose caressing her cheek and her eyes close to smell the aftershave off of him.

“I want to see how you touch yourself,” he murmurs, taking a too gentle nip on her mandible, “when I’m not around.”

Oh. _Oh._

She bites her lip, crossing her legs simultaneously and _fuck_ , she curses his superpowers because she knows he also heard her heartbeat speeding up tenfold.

“Clark....”

Her breathy tone makes him pull back, gazing down at her wide hazel eyes, “You don’t have to,” he reassures, “but,” he takes a finger and guides it toward her stomach, watching as her abs clench and breath catches when he stops just above her underwear, “I’d like to see it.”

Her head turns foggy, ears begin to ring as his words begin to sink and _shit_ , just when she thought she had him completely figured out. She knew he wasn’t the ultimate innocent farmboy- had vacated those thoughts long before they slept together for the first time. And each new love making session seemed to continuously prove otherwise. But this? This was- not what she was expecting.

“Jesus, Smallville,” she lets out a breathy chuckle, a mixture of anxiousness and excitement brewing inside her belly, “I never pegged you for the show and tell kind of guy.”

“I guess you can say you bring it out in me, Lois.”

She doesn’t know if she can do this- and not because of embarrassment. She’s never felt more comfortable with anyone before. And with her colorful assortment of past lovers and adventures in the bedroom- or elsewhere- she’s never indulged in such a fantasy before. It was too personal, too intimate even among other sexual endeavors.

She just doesn’t think she’d last very long.

“You’ve really thought about this,” it’s a statement rather than a question, but still he nods.

“Not a lot, exactly,” he shifts slightly, but continues a gentle caress on her skin, “but- this was the first thing that came to my mind.”

She loved this Clark- granted, she loved every side of him. She loved the nerdy fumbling reporter, the gentle farmboy and the supergalactic hero. She loved the whole of him even before she knew that Clark Kent and the then-Red-Blue Blur were the same person. But sexy, bold bedroom Clark, who held no barriers or qualms and looked downright delectable when he was horny for her... yeah, she was a complete fool for that Clark.

Lois gnaws on the inside of her cheek, schooling her thoughts and gazing up at the man who’d captured her heart and soul some years ago. She’d do anything for him, and if his one true fantasy was to watch her get off, she wasn’t about to deny him that.

“Well,” her gaze follows his, could see the wheels in his mind wandering the longer she took to answer. She could start to see a flash of worry cover his otherwise bright eyes, and she’d be dammed if she didn’t love to watch him squirm as well, “What makes you think I ever touched myself thinking about you?”

He grins then, showing off those perfect pearly whites, “Lois,” he says as if it were answer enough.

“Don’t ‘Lois’ me Mister Suave,” she takes a foot and playfully bumps it into his, “You’d think I’d really do that?”

She gives him credit for not faltering, watching as he leans over to press both hands on either side of her, hovering over her entire body, “Yes.”

A rush of adrenaline and arousal flows through her veins, and she has to remind herself to take a breath, “Well,” she licks her now dry lips, “then you’d be right.”

The air around them shifts suddenly, and it takes every last control not to pull him down, stick her tongue down his throat and pull off his boxers so she could have him thrusting inside her in seconds. No, this would be worth it. It had to be.

She notices the muscles on his chest flexing, jaw clenching before his lips could part and _shit_ , she knew she had to be dripping at that point.

He leans down further, lips widening, and she knew he was going to urge her on, but no- she wasn’t done playing yet.

“But,” she takes a hand to his chest, stopping his actions, “You’re gonna have to show me yours if you want me to show you mine.”

Dark blue eyes widen, and she has to bite her lip to suppress the laugh that bubbles up, “Lois,” he nearly growls, “that’s not how it works.”

She shrugs, “Sorry, Superman, you have to sing for your supper.”

“So, you want me to-“

_“Yes.”_

“And what makes you think that I-“

“Please,” she scoffs, “Smallville, you were never subtle about,” she eyes him up and down, settling on his groin where his boxers were tented, “what you and Clark junior thought about me.”

His eyes narrow but the way his lips stretch lets her know he was ready for the first round in their game, “Fine,” he shifts suddenly, moving to the side to settle against the pillows, “How exactly do you want me to... start?”

Her throat feels dryer now, a striking contrast to how her nether region was feeling. “Well,” she turns on the spot as well, placing a hand on the mattress to watch him- mirroring his earlier position, “I want you to tell me first.”

Clark knits his forehead, hands itching to reach inside his boxers already- relieve the pressure if only to speed the process up to watch _her_.

“Tell you what?”

“When,” she drags out the word, reaching a hand to playfully glide along the edge of his blue plaid boxers, “When did Clark Kent first relinquish control... privately,” she snaps the band in place, tongue poking out between her teeth when he jumps at the motion, “thinking about Lois Lane?”

He gulps, and if she knew her man- _which she did_ \- she knows the exact moment the memory sinks beneath those deep baby blues. “I-“

“Come on, Clark,” she taps his abs playfully, pulling her hand back in a stance to show him she was done touching him for the time being, “Was it when we first met and I took over your room?” She misses any changes behind his pupils, so she continues, “Or was it... a little later on? When we were still playing the field as friends and getting ourselves into trouble?”

“You mean _you_ were getting yourself into trouble and I just happened to stumble into you,” he concedes with a sigh, squirming on the spot.

_Bingo._

Lois grins, not missing the way his hands clench to fists, and she knew he was about ready to burst- literally.

“Okay, Casanova,” she raises an eyebrow, “which one of our many adventures finally made you...”

“Indulge?”

Her lips quirk, “That’s one way to put it.”

His head tilts, lips stretching and God, what she’d do to have that smile between her legs right now... But once again, she relents and knows their current charade is going to satisfy her to no end once they… _finish._

“Two words, Lois,” he eyes her up and down, a fire in his gaze that makes her gulp, “lap dance.”


	2. Chapter 2

_2005_

He doesn’t realize he’s smiling like an idiot until he sees his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It makes him falter, the corner of his lips dropping as the realization sets in.

_Lois._

Their recent conversation was running circles in his brain- how she thanked him for being there, saving her even if she did have it under control. _She always did._

_“I get the feeling you like to do things yourself.”_

_“My dad raised me to be independent and self-sufficient.”_

He shakes his head, peeling off his shirt before throwing it in the hamper, following his pants and boxers. He steps into the shower and turns on the water, closing his eyes as it cascaded over him.

It confused him at times, how he perceived Lois. She got on his nerves, grated him and made him squirm in already uncomfortable situations. But she was his _friend-_ his very good friend who seemed to know him better than anyone- who never begrudged him over his secrets, didn’t make him feel guilty for abstaining any truths and jumped into situations with him without even questioning why or _how._

She called him _Smallville_ and punched him. She frustrated him to no end but brought out a happiness he hadn’t realized was even plausible until she came along- until they bantered and she flashed that 100-watt smile at him, rolled her eyes or teased him for his lack of fashion sense.

Lois Lane never fell to his feet- she saw past that high school football star he had once donned. She was never intimidated either, and she knew how to take care of herself. He found himself following her escapades and watching her shine more than he did rescuing her. _And she’d saved him too._

Clark reaches over to grab the shampoo, quickly lathering his hair as more thoughts of Lois filtered through his mind.

He remembers back to when she first came into his life- a whirlwind of bangs and rambling words, running alongside him into trouble, for the sake of justice. For all their inherent differences, they had many of the same core values and fought toward the same goal. They both protected those they loved fiercely, and it was their mutual love for Chloe that had thrust them into the same path in the first place… and that was after she’d unknowingly saved him when he was the all-powerful Kryptonian, Kal-El. 

Before he knew it, they were investigating and fighting against armed soldiers- running away from the trouble they dug themselves into. 

And then… she was in the bathroom with him. He was minding his own business, washing away the events of the day when she’d stumbled in- hair wet and legs bare wearing his shirt as a string of quips left her lips, sassing him through the curtain of his shower.

It’s then that he feels a tightening in his lower abdomen, crawling through to his groin and he has to clench his teeth.

_No._

The memory of her once bare legs transition into their most recent adventure- when he showed up at the club and happened to find the one Lois Lane pole dancing wearing little to nothing. 

Clark closes his eyes, jaw tightening as a myriad of images flood through his mind and _no no no…._

He had a girlfriend- a very pretty and kind girlfriend. A girlfriend with whom he’d fantasized being with for years.

But then, flashes of stars and stripes in the form of a _tiny_ sailor outfit overwhelm him. Flowing dirty blonde hair and bangs that highlighted bright hazel eyes and legs that went on forever….

_No._

Clark screws his eyes, wills the arousal to fade, tries to think about anything else to hinder his lower half from wakening any further.

 _Mom, dad, football season and kryptonite._ He nods, rinsing out the shampoo before grabbing the body wash. 

_Shelby and playing catch and Lois sitting on his lap with her breasts near his face-_

_Fuck dammit, no!_

Clark catches himself before he could punch a hole through the wall, eyes opening to the steaming hot shower. He doesn’t need to glance down to know he was now standing to attention, hot and hard and in great need of some relief. 

He’ll think about Lana, yes, his very pretty girlfriend with long brown hair and green eyes.

_A little greener than Lois’ but-_

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffs to himself, a mirthless chuckle leaving his lips when the one woman he doesn’t want to be thinking about keeps running circles through his mind, driving him wild even when she’s nowhere in sight.

 _It’s not like you’re cheating,_ a little voice in the back of his head tells him, _what’s the harm?_

Clark freezes in place, shower halted, and body filled with the suds of the body wash he hadn’t yet rinsed out. He couldn’t… could he? 

_There’s no harm in a little fantasy, no one will ever know. Just get her off your system while you- get off._

He wasn’t a blind man; he knew that Lois was an attractive young woman. She was physically fit, was one of his taller female friends, had beautiful hair that smelled like coconut when he got too close, and eyes that sparkled a shade of hazel he’d never seen before.

 _No,_ he groans then, finally wrapping a hand around his length, _this was just about Lois sitting on your lap in the club, any other red-blooded man would have felt aroused having bare legs sitting on them._

But he wasn’t just any ordinary man, and she wasn’t just any other woman. This was Lois Lane- his friend who got on his nerves, but whom he cared a great deal. She was his best friend’s cousin and his greatest enigma. 

He closes his eyes then, realizing that fighting against the current at this point would be futile. He squeezes his cock just enough to coax a low groan out of him, finally allowing the events of the day to catch up to him.

He hadn’t known what to do when he saw her- shock was the first thing that came over him. He hadn’t expected to see her, then again, this was them and _of course_ they’d somehow both got wrapped up in a sticky situation. Except- she hadn’t always been so- exposed before. Then, she’d walked over to him, long legs carrying her, and his eyes didn’t know whether they should settle on her flat stomach, her very long limbs or the bikini top that was a size too small for the swell of her breasts.

 _“Oh God,”_ he moans softly, using the memories of her sauntering over to him to lure him further into a place of no return. His hand runs up and down his length, thumb settling on the head to spread the pre-cum, helping to lubricate himself as he continued his strokes. 

He’d been mostly fine up until the point where she decided it would be okay to _sit on his lap._ He doesn’t think he’d ever felt more unsettled and unsure of himself. Because the second that a near naked Lois Lane sat on him, his most southern head took over. He couldn’t say for certain that she hadn’t felt him stir under the confines of his slacks, hardening more with every shift she took and _damn it,_ he was supposed to be stronger than this.

He could stop freight trains with his body, take bullets to the face and shoot fire from his eyes. But the second Lois’ chest was in his face and the scent of her body lotion took over his senses,Clark Junior- as she’d so lovely dubbed it- was attentive and _needy._

And God, he can’t deny how gorgeous she’d looked. Long waves cascading, freckles leading a very dangerous trail to where her breasts met, and he doesn’t think he’d held the power of looking away. He was embarrassed, too damn nervous wondering whether or not she could feel him under those very tiny red and blue shorts… and if she had- she hadn’t led on, to which he’d been thankful. 

His left hand settles on the wall as his other continued a rapid pace on his erection, eyes closed with the images of only one woman flitting through his mind.

He wondered what she’d taste like, what her lips would feel like against his, her tongue running against his own as his hands would settle on her waist, pulling her toward him.

 _“Oh, Lois,”_ he heaves out a breath as the fantasy continued to lead him toward uncharted territory, hand quickening below the scalding hot water.

What would her very long legs feel like wrapped around him? Bare and silky smooth, using her thighs to buck into him, pull him closer to where he’d grind his hardness against her, making her moan.

_Oh, to hear her pleas and sighs as he pleasured her._

A new wave of need washes over him, and he turned his back, the wall supporting him as he brought down his left hand to cup his balls, fondling the mass as he brought himself closer to nirvana. The images were too great now, too overwhelming and he knew it’d be a matter of minutes- if not seconds- before he’d be coming.

He wondered what it would feel like to be inside her, to feel her inner walls tightening around him as he thrust into her heat, watching her eyes widen and mouth opening as she cursed and begged him for _more, harder, faster, Smallville._

“Oh, shit, shit, _Lois…”_ he bites his lip, the coil in his abdomen tightening and _fuck,_ he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before, not even with Lana.

No, Lana Lang was beautiful, but she wasn’t Lois Lane beautiful, and after that day, he’d realized the difference in those distinctions. 

He remembered her thanking him, for being there and saving him. He remembered the swell of happiness and fondness he felt for her in that moment, seeing yet again a new side to his friend. And after he’d gone looking for her, worry etched in his mind and heart as he hoped she was okay, it was a warm comfort to his soul. And then she’d teased him with a threat of never bringing up her lap dance, lest a certain night light he had be shared. He hadn’t been able to not tease her right back, _“Aye aye… sailor.”_ And he’d seen a flash of surprise in those bright eyes, a small smile forming and _Oh God, what he’d give to have those lips wrapped around him…._

“Lois, _oh God yes, Lois, Lois….”_ He squeezes himself tighter now, urging his release forward as the very image of Lois Lane on her knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, mouth servicing him as she watched him through hooded eyes. 

Clark felt his balls tightening, and he screwed his eyes shut, could almost feel the swipe of her tongue alongside his length as he began to release inside her waiting mouth.

He continued chanting her name as he finally came undone, a string of _“Oh, fuck, Lois,”_ leaving his lips as he shot his cum, and the small part of his brain that still held an ounce of coherency would think she’d smirk at hearing him curse.

_“I didn’t think you’d had it in you, Smallville.”_

He kept a tight hand around his cock, feeling himself softening with each second. He releases a breath, finally daring to open his eyes. He was immediately met by the steam of the shower, fogging up the small enclosure as his brain began to clear and body continued to relax.

 _What the hell just happened?_ He wonders then, hand slowly releasing hold of himself. He swallows back what feels like shame and guilt and residual desire. _Did I just get off thinking about Lois?_

He scrubs his face with his hands, trying to bring himself back to reality again- a reality where Lois Lane wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities for him. A reality where only one woman occupied his brain, and that was Lana- his very pretty and kind girlfriend. Lana.

Guilt ate him, and it wasn’t so much that he felt guilty for- indulging in himself, thinking about someone other than his very pretty girlfriend… It was because _he enjoyed it a little too much._

He’d allowed himself the luxury of self-gratification before- _he was a goddamn man… slash alien._ But still, he wracked his brain to think of a time he’d been so- horny, and to have the very release match the expectations of feeling so aroused he’d seen spots once he came.

He shakes his head again, _no, this was just a one-time thing._ He’d merely taken care of a situation that arose from a natural reaction. Alien or not, he was still a male with male _parts_ and Lois was most definitely a woman with her own set of _very beautiful and attractive parts and…._

Where was this going again? He felt himself starting to harden again and cursed his Kryptonian self for the level of stamina he honed. 

Clark groans, switching the shower to the coldest setting. Even if he couldn’t really feel it, he hoped it’d still somehow dilute the apparent growing need he had for his friend. Because that’s just what she was- his _friend._ Nothing else, definitely nothing more. 

She was his very beautiful friend with some striking delicate features, who’d sat on his lap and stirred a very animalistic need deep inside of him. _It was just nature_ , he tried to convince himself as he continued to rinse off the remaining suds on his skin, as well as the evidence of what he’d just done.

_Oh, God, he’d really gotten himself off to thinking about Lois Lane and all the things he’d imagine doing to her- what she would do to him-_

Quickly, he shuts off the water, partially opening the curtains to look around the bathroom. It didn’t occur to him until then that someone could have stumbled into the shower as he- serviced himself. It wasn’t improbable. His father wasn’t home, but his mom would sometimes come in to leave some towels, and Lois- 

Clark gulps, thinking back to the time they’d lived together, to when she’d walked into the bathroom while he was taking a shower, and _Oh, what if he’d been touching himself then?_ He doesn’t think he could have handled it- could have hidden his desire, and she’d been so annoyingly in tune with him, that he didn’t doubt she’d point it out to him… literally.

But Lois wasn’t living with him anymore, and the thought- for a brief moment- makes his heart drop. _No._ He was happy his formerly bad and annoying housemate, Lois Lane, no longer occupied the same roof he did, especially not since he and Lana had been dating.

Still, she held a habit of coming over unannounced, grabbing something from the fridge and punching him in the arm as she told him about her day, unprompted. So, it wouldn’t have surprised him had she come over, stumbled into the bathroom and heard him calling out her name as he came.

He didn’t think he’d ever get over the embarrassment, but Lois being, well- _Lois-_ would have probably smirked and teased him endlessly about it. But if he knew his friend- and he was starting to read her better every day- he knew she wouldn’t have told anyone about it, because that’s just who she was. Annoying antics and blabbering mouth aside, she was his most loyal friend, and she didn’t even know his secret.

Sighing, he steps out of the shower, reaching for a towel to wrap around his waist. It’s not until he looks in the mirror does he notice a small smile etched on his face.

_Lois._

For all of his initial reservations about her, he’d grown to appreciate and respect her, to admire her wit and desire for truth and justice. He found himself looking forward to seeing her, knowing that _some-goddamn-how_ she’d make him smile with a quip and a sarcastic remark. 

But no, he couldn’t let himself get too far with the meaning behind all of his- feelings for Lois Lane. His strictly platonic feelings for Lois. His friend.

Because he had a girlfriend and her name was Lana Lang.

He towels himself dry, quickly dressing before facing the mirror again. He smiles, thinking about his girlfriend- the girl of his dreams and fantasies. But as he leaves the bathroom, a flash of colors run through his mind- _red, white, and blue. Stars and stripes. Golden hair and sparkling hazel eyes._

His smile widens just a bit more.

…

“You naughty, _naughty_ boy.”

“Lois,” Clark groans. He watches her eyes- wide and alight, lips twisted in a smirk he wishes he could kiss.

“I can’t believe you never told me that,” she tuts, a hand slapping his chest.

“You never asked.”

Lois shakes her head, a rush of arousal and adoration washing over as she pictured her now fiancé getting himself off while thinking about her- back when he’d been otherwise taken.

“Well,” she licks her lips, eyes on his hand grasping the edge of his boxer shorts, “I think now’s the time for the _show_ portion of our game, Mister Kent.”

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, “Really?” He asks, already pulling down the last barrier, “You don’t feel the need to add anything else?”

Her eyes land on his impressive length- thick and hard as a rock as it jutted up toward his stomach. She wets her lips on instinct, “Well,” clearing her throat, she shifts to get closer, but is mindful not to touch him as his own hand wraps around himself, “There _is_ one thing.”

“What?” He sighs in relief when he finally squeezes himself.

“I _was_ able to feel Clark Junior when I sat on your lap, back at the club,” she confesses softly.

Clark feels himself hardening more, if possible. He watches her eyes clouding over with what he could only guess to be arousal and mischief and fuck it, he doesn’t think he’s going to last very long now.

 _“Lois,”_ he growls as he begins a slow stroke.

“What?” She shrugs, eyes now focused where his hand moved over himself, “Just be glad I didn’t mention anything.”

“I- _shit-_ I am,” his breath is turning ragged and Lois feels herself growing wetter as she watches him, “Just know,” a thumb brushes over his pink tip, not missing the way her mouth opens and he smirks, “that wasn’t the last time I got off thinking about you.”

Her throat clears, meeting his eyes briefly in one of their more heated stare downs, “Oh, I figured that much, hot stuff,” her legs cross automatically when she watches his abdominal muscles clenching with his every upstroke, “Mind sharing with the class the second time you- indulged?”

She was fascinated- _and oh so highly aroused-_ just watching him touch himself. And it wasn’t as if it was the first time she’d seen him do so. She’d caught him at least twice in the shower with his hand occupied between his legs, but each time she’d entered with a smirk that soon found itself wrapped around him. Then, it was all the other times they were in bed- _or any other surface or general space-_ and he’d hold and stroke himself seconds before thrusting inside her. So, this… this was different. 

His laugh turns into a groan, “I’m gonna need more time if you want me to talk about _every_ time, Lois,” his other hand meets his base, squeezing and cupping as the need to come grows to a near painful degree.

Lois leans down, a breath away from his face as her eyes flit from his open mouth to the flash of his hand, “Just the first couple will suffice.”

“You-“ Clark takes a deep breath, willing himself not to let go so damn quickly, but it was- _hard-_ when his fiancée was sitting so close, smelling like a bed of wild flowers and _home,_ and just watching her watching him get off was almost enough to send him over, “are going to be the death of me, Lois Lane.”

She laughs softly, wisps of her hair tickling his cheek, “I should hope not. At least, not before you tell me about the other times.”

He risks a glance to her eyes, now a shade of dark amber under the poor lighting, “Fine,” he relents, his hand slowing. He was leaking now, head a darker shade of pink and he watches with renewed attention as she bites on her lip, eyes still on his member. “From what I remember, it was when I saw you naked.”

Her eyes jump to his, a little wider this time as she watches a slow grin appear on his flushed face, “You mean when you came into my apartment and scared the living crap out of me, thinking you were some psycho I planned to pulverize with my shower head?”

“That’d be the one.”

“Wow,” she sucks in a breath, “I knew I had to have left a lasting impression on you that night, Kent.”

His hands itch to reach out to her, pull her down for a kiss that would leave her panting and begging for more, “That you did, Lane. That you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! They always inspire me to write more :)


	3. Chapter 3

_2006_

He knows it’s pointless to fight against it this time, but he still _tries._ He tries to fight off the need growing deep inside, tosses and turns that night in bed, unable to picture the sight he’d been privy to the day before.

He’d been worried about her, knew there was a psychopath on the loose and Lois was at the forefront of his path. So, he’d gone to check up on her, make sure he got to her before the deranged lunatic could. Time was of the essence, so he didn’t have time to knock, didn’t bother calling out for her and just made his way through the apartment.

Seconds later, he found himself face to face with a dripping wet, very naked Lois Lane.

He hates that his eyes shot straight to her chest… her _very_ well-developed and beautiful chest. When his eyes managed to meet her horrified ones, he’d felt his whole body go numb… except for one particular part. He willed himself to calm down, took the seconds where she’d slammed the door in his face to compose himself, remembering why he was there in the first place.

_He had to keep her safe, she was in danger._

And then, after she made him flinch with a blue towel wrapped around her still wet body and a shower head in her hand, he’d been able to re-focus his mind… and body.

But now, with Lois safe and one more psychopath off the streets, he could relax… or so he thought.

As soon as he’d slipped beneath the covers, she popped into his brain again. Aside from a few dirty dreams divided over the course of a few months, he hadn’t let himself indulge in any more fantasies where the leading star was his friend.

 _He couldn’t._ Not when he had Lana, _lost Lana,_ dealt with the unexpected death of his father, and tried saving the world every other week. But once again, Lois Lane manages a way to pop into his head- _both of them-_ and the world around him seems to fade.

Clark sighs in defeat, too tired to fight off the urges _not_ to give in. He settles against the headboard, propping himself against the pillows before he’s pushing down his boxers just enough to free his hardness.

His eyes close upon contact, hand beginning routine work over his cock as he recalls what a naked Lois looked like. He’d known she was fit, had a perfectly flat stomach showcasing her abs- all thanks to her exercise regime- and he’d caught glimpses of it before. But when you add her bare chest and body glistening with the remaining droplets from her shower….

His back arches as he works over himself faster, little sighs leaving him, and he knew it wouldn’t take much to get him to tip over.

He thinks back, wills his brain to remember every detail of the moment- as brief as it’d been. He doesn’t think he’s ever envied a water droplet so much in his life than when he saw the one between her chest traveling down her skin.

Clark groans as he rubs the head of his cock harder, balls tightening when her breasts come into his mental view. Perfectly round and luscious, specks of freckles lining each one until they were met with her very perky nipples, standing to attention with the cold air that had swept in.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans again.

He hadn’t had much time, and his eyes had mainly settled on her chest during that short moment, but he had oh so briefly checked out her _entire self._ Beneath her breasts lay a path toward her sleek stomach, a sight he’d already seen, but further beneath her small waist led to the v-shaped section of her womanhood, and that was a view he doesn’t think he could ever shake off.

He knew she was beautiful, could objectively think so about his friend. But _fuck,_ standing before him in her most vulnerable state, completely bare and dripping… she was _stunning._

Clark’s hips buck into his hand, a desperate need to come overriding his too deep thoughts of how gorgeous his very platonic, bossy, and annoying friend was.

His extremely beautiful and physically blessed friend, Lois.

Maybe in another lifetime they’d be something more, but in this one she didn’t belong to him that way. She was merely a friend- a friend he’d grown attach to in spite of all the banter and teases and arm punches.

He pictures another lifetime where he’d entered the bathroom a little earlier, when she was still in the shower. He’d surprise her by coming up behind her, making her squeal in surprise. But in this life, she wasn’t just his friend, and when the surprise settled, she’d slap his chest with a huff, making him laugh before settling his hands on her waist to pull her closer. She’d wrap her own arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss. It wouldn’t be long before he had her legs wrapped around him, and he was settled inside her, pumping into her until they’d climax together.

Clark gasps as his strokes become sloppy now, his orgasm finally coming to a head and he’s coming with Lois’ name on his lips, images of them and her whole beautiful self filtering through his mind like a film reel. He relaxes within seconds, feeling sated and spent. Using the set of Kleenex he kept on his night stand, he cleans himself up, throwing the tissues in the waste basket by his bed.

But when he settles against his pillows, he feels an ounce of emptiness inside him- one he couldn’t fully fathom. Once again, he’d gotten her out of his system. It was normal- he’d tell himself again and again- to fantasize about his very attractive friend. So, it didn’t matter either way because he didn’t see her in a romantic way, and she _definitely_ didn’t see him in that way. He was just a man with an itch to scratch and she’d merely provided the dirty images to help fuel that very need.

So, why did he suddenly feel unfulfilled?

…

“Wow,” Lois says quietly. She breaks her own rule then, reaches a hand to place on his chest, “You’ve been pining for me longer than I thought.”

Clark scoffs, “I have not-“ his hands cease their movement, “I was just- confused.”

“And horny.”

“That was a given, Lois,” he growls as he continues his strokes.

“I guess it’s just nice to know that I wasn’t the only one- gratifying myself years before we even got together,” she trails a nail down his chest, watching in amusement as his muscles flex beneath her touch.

“You’re next,” he reminds her with a grunt and a wicked grin.

Lois bites her lips, pupils dilating all the more, “But we’re not done with you yet.”

“You haven’t let me finish.”

She quiets for a moment, a new need to finally finish watching himself getting off taking over again. His hand pulled and stroked at his rock-hard member, and she held herself back from reaching over, giving him a literal helping hand.

“How many other times?” Comes her low question, a mere seconds later.

It takes him a moment, between a set of grunts and ragged breaths as he feels himself getting closer, to realize she’d spoken, “What?”

“Well, not _how many in total,_ per say, just-“ she bites back a moan as she watches his hand flying over himself, arousal tainting her cheeks pink, “Tell me another story,” she whispers hoarsely.

Clark lets out a mixture between a groan and laugh, eyes leaving the work of his hand to meet her eyes, “You get one more, Lane.”

“Two.”

 _“Lois,”_ he growls, hand faltering on his cock once more. He was never going to finish.

“Hey, tit for tat, mister. You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine. Scouts honor,” she gives him an exaggerated salute, to which makes him roll his eyes, though she doesn’t miss the ghost of a smile on his lips.

He turns closer to her, lips barely brushing, “Those better be some detailed stories, Lois. I’ve got some fantasies to collect.”

If it were possible to come undone by his mere tone of voice, she’d be in full nirvana right now. Her legs cross tightly, eyes hooded, and she wonders to herself what kind of game she was playing. She was a major tease, she knew that. But he wasn’t far behind in that matter. He was a gentle soul with an innocent heart at times, too good and pure for this world, and she never stopped to make sure he knew just what kind of a special heart he held.

But… Clark Kent was also a firecracker ready to implode- a dynamite waiting to ignite her very being and make her see stars for hours on end. His stamina was unmatched, and his talented hands and mouth and _tongue_ alone were enough to make her relinquish control.

And seeing him now, horny as hell and sexually frustrated because _of course_ she wasn’t going to make this easy on him… it made her desire for him rise to new heights.

“Well, come on super stud, what else you got for me?”

Clark sighs, shifting on the bed to make himself more comfortable. He’d been in the same position for what felt like an hour, and while the man of steel usually had no problems with getting cramps, his current situation provided a new variable to navigate around.

“Remember that time in the alley, when I was pretending to be Green Arrow?”

Lois’s lips stretch slowly, the memories flooding back, “Oh, _that._ Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you tricking me into a kiss.”

“You’re the one who kissed _me.”_

“You’re the one who didn’t stop it.”

“Because I couldn’t,” he says quietly.

Her eyes soften, swallowing back a wave of unexpected emotions, “Okay, go on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to hear your thoughts, they mean a lot and always fuel my desire to write more :)


	4. Chapter 4

_2007_

It was only supposed to be a quick ruse- sweep in to save Lois, pretending to be Oliver as Green Arrow. But then, Lois was on the ground and before he knew it, she was planting one on him as soon as he helped her up. He didn’t have time to think about it, as soon as her lips were on his, his arms wrapped around her waist and he fell deeper into the kiss. He’d been so caught up, he barely noticed when she pulled away- face morphing into near horror as she realized it wasn’t her boyfriend that she was kissing.

Then, she slapped him, and he ran away as Oliver appeared. It was at that moment that he could take off the disguise, let himself surrender to the lingering sensation of her lips on his, and he smiled.

Who knew Lois Lane would be such a damn good kisser? Yes, she was more experienced than he was, and a year older. But still, he didn’t think he’d ever been kissed so fiercely before. He’d had his share of kisses, but when it’s a kiss from your friend- a friend that tends to get on your nerves one second and makes you sees stars the next… it does something to a man, intergalactic superhero or not.

He allowed himself a moment of enjoyment, of solitary bliss in that dark alley as he still wore that ridiculous Green Arrow suit. Then, he’d blurred away into the night, and willed the memory he shared with Lois to remain just that.

She was with someone now. And so was Lana. He just had to make do with the fact that maybe he wasn’t destined for true love or any kind of epic romance in this life, or any other.

And so, he went on with his life- blurring between Clark Kent and an unseen superhero. He’d mostly managed to sweep their kiss under the formidable rug, until he went to the Talon and spoke with Chloe and Lois.

_“Well, he was holding me in his arms, and - Ollie's a good kisser, don't get me wrong - but that Green Arrow? He could teach Ollie a thing or two.”_

He remembered when Lois had told him she thought she was in love with Oliver- the strange tug he felt in the pit of his stomach. _How could she be in love with him already? Didn’t they just start dating?_ And then she went on to tell him that Ollie could tell her he was from Mars and she’d excuse it as cute quirk.

It stirred something inside him- a yearning for something he’d yet to find. It was like a magnetic pull, but he didn’t know which way it was tugging him toward. And he didn’t feel an ounce of relief until she’d kissed him in that alley. A kiss he’d managed to more or less forget about.

Until she said _that._

Clark’s eyes had widened, looking at the shit-eating grin she was sending his way as Chloe gloated between them. How was he supposed to respond to that? Lois Lane- his very beautiful and platonic and annoying friend- told him he was a better kisser than her boyfriend.

If she knew it was him, Kryptonite or not, she’d find a way to kill him. So, he schooled his features as best he could, a warm sense of pride and something akin to happiness floating to up chest. And it was that same warm sensation that settled in him when he took a shower that night.

A part of him felt guilty- and this time it wasn’t because he was with someone else- no, this time it was _Lois_ who had a boyfriend. Not that if neither of them had a significant other they could-

_No._

This was Lois Lane- his best friend’s very rambunctious and vocal cousin. His friend. His forever friend who sometimes navigated to his subconscious thoughts, leading a path to his groin.

Clark groaned as he stepped under the hot spray, already knowing where this was going- where’d it gone the other times he succumbed to unwarranted thoughts of a certain tall and _very talented kisser_ of a friend.

A thrill sneaked up his spine as he reveled in the fact that she’d seemed just as affected by their kiss as he’d been. His hand snakes toward his groin, a low moan reverberating through him as he set an already familiar pace.

It was different this time, somehow, knowing what her lips tasted like- _how_ they felt against his. They’d been soft and supple, tasting like the strawberry lip gloss she’d put on that night. He doesn’t think he would be able to look at strawberries the same way again.

Another groan leaves him, teeth biting down on his bottom lip. And God, how he wishes it was hers in that very moment.

_But, no, she was with someone else- she was with his fellow superhero friend. He was a good guy. And he didn’t have romantic feelings toward her, and she didn’t have romantic feelings toward him._

They were just good kissers. That’s it.

His hand moves faster as his breathing intensifies, and he could swear he could smell her in that moment. _She’d smelled like coconut and lavender and happiness._ The sweet aroma only lured him deeper into the moment, losing himself further in the kiss as her hands gripped his biceps through the leather.

And then he remembers the smile she’d given him at the apartment, full Cheshire Cat-like and beaming over having kissed a superhero, and he guessed the initial shock of kissing a stranger in a dark alley had passed. It moved him to know she’d be okay with someone having superhuman powers- she’d been ready to dive into it more with Oliver, had she realized they were the same person. But Ollie didn’t have those same super speed powers, or super strength….

But it didn’t matter, because they didn’t see each other that way. At the very least, he thinks she would be more than okay with having a superhero friend, one that didn’t just do chores around the farm.

And it would have to be enough, because she was just his very beautiful friend who kissed him in dark alleys and made his otherwise steel legs feel like jelly.

Giving himself one last hard squeeze, he finds himself calling out her name in a low groan as he finally comes, hand continuing to move up and down as he releases himself in short hot spurts- with only one image laced into his mind:

Lois Lane’s smile before she kissed him in that dark alley.

…

“I could’ve killed Chloe for putting me in that spot,” Lois murmurs, a hand softly caressing his bicep.

Clark smirks, “I was just glad I wasn’t the only one completely affected by that kiss.”

Lois grins, a softness in her eyes as she takes him in. He hadn’t touched himself as he retold the story, holding off because he knew she’d convinced him to tell her at least one more story, and he knew there was no way he’d last if he continued.

“A little more than I realized,” she quips.

Clarks grunts, shifting once again in his position, “Can I continue now?” Even with his usual impressive stamina and ability to hold off from coming prematurely, touching himself while his fiancée watched put him in uncharted waters, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard.

“Yeah,” Lois husks as she inches closer. She guides his hand to his member, feeling more than hearing his groan as she does so, “But you still have one more story to go.”

“You know,” Clark sighs as he begins a gentler approach with his movements, “If I knew this is where your fantasy question would have led us, I’d have picked something else.”

“And miss getting a front row view of yours truly getting off? Try again, Smallville.”

“Fine,” he glares at her through hooded eyes, “just know I won’t be going so easy on you.”

A shiver runs through her veins, “Consider me warned.”

“It’s a good thing this next story is going to be the last,” Clark continues after a beat, his movements still slow and measured.

“Why’s that?”

He waits for her eyes to glance from his groin to his face again, “Because the next time happened after Valentine’s Day.”

Lois’ breath hitches, “Hot fudge and halibut.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those following along to this story and reviewing. They mean a lot.
> 
> As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! xo


	5. Chapter 5

_2007_

It takes a while for the guilt to subside- for him to acknowledge the mess he found himself in and how he hurt Lana, and even Lex in the process. It didn’t make the shame disappear completely, and he doesn’t think he’ll completely forgive himself for hurting those around him at the hands of his powers, but with the help of time alone, he wasn’t beating himself up for it as much.

Clark, however, didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Because the second that the guilt starts to melt away and he settles in for a night’s sleep, he dreams about _her._

No, not Lana Lang- his former girlfriend who was now engaged to his ex-best friend and expecting a child with him. It was Lois Lane. Lois and their spell slash red kryptonite induced love fest.

The memories were sparse- flashes of lips clashing and hands roaming ran through his mind on the daily. But it wasn’t until he fell asleep that night did the missing pieces of the puzzle form into a near X-rated movie. He remembers the way her lips felt- more pronounced and desperate than the one they shared in that dark alley. He remembers how he wanted to show her his powers- that he wasn’t just a simple farmboy who could drive tractors and stack piles of hay.

The look of wonder and awe in her eyes struck a chord against his heart- it played the sweet melody throughout his dream where he was able to see their kisses growing heavier, and their mutual needs nearly coming to a head at Oliver’s apartment.

He wakes with a start, sweat lining his skin and the last thing he remembers is his body hovering over Lois, breasts jutting out of her bustier after he’d snapped her shirt open, causing her to jump.

Clark closes his eyes, doesn’t even fight against the inevitable this time. He pulls down his boxers, grabs hold of his engorged cock and begins to stroke.

He licks his lips, taking advantage as the memories from his dream were still fresh in his mind. She’d looked so beautiful in that outfit she wore; a skirt too short with boots that made her legs go for miles, a blouse that left little to the imagination, and dark red lips that taunted him into the deep crevices of forbidden desire.

He jolts against the mattress, a groan escaping him when he remembers what it felt like to have his tongue in her mouth, stroking and playing with hers, tasting the remnants of coffee and sugar _._ He remembers what it felt like to lose control, to bury the humble and quiet farmboy persona as a more willing and bold side took over- and took Lois Lane with him. He enjoyed seeing her just as free and excited to partake in whatever kind of adventure he was about to show her.

More than anything, he remembers feelings free. It was one thing to play the powerful Clark Kent- the superhero only a few people knew him to be and hold the ever-present worry that someone would figure him out and expose, reject, or worse-get hurt- because of him. But when Lois Lane told him she found his tractor-driving-self endearing, he’d felt this great need to shower he _wasn’t_ just a simpleton small town guy who donned plaid and did chores around the farm. And when he’d wrapped his arm around her waist, flew her over Metropolis and saw the look of wonder in her eyes… for the first time in his life, Clark Kent felt normal.

That freedom led to a series of kisses that continuously fueled his desire for _more._ More kisses, more touches, _more Lois._ And if it weren’t for that small part of him that was still attached to Lana, he knows they would have had sex on Oliver’s green chair had he not seen the invitation to the engagement party.

He rubs the head of his cock, now leaking with a renewed need to release because _fuck,_ he’d almost slept with Lois Lane.

His dear friend Lois Lane who’d looked downright horrified when she asked him if they had slept together. He’d laughed, however, finding the prospect of them ever going _there_ impossible and ridiculous. Except it wasn’t, because as soon as he’d shown her the CD mix she’d made him, a surprised look adorning her face as she told him _“I must have really liked you,”_ he knew it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibilities- in this life or any other.

_“No, Lois. I think I would have remembered.”_

_“Highlight of your life.”_

Because he knows he would have recalled the feeling of being so intimately connected with Lois Lane- his very beautiful yet platonic good friend. His friend that annoyed him and knew him better than anyone and made him feel freer than he ever thought was possible.

 _But that was the red k,_ his brain reminds him.

He rubs himself faster now, feeling that tight coil in his abdomen tightening further as a mix of frustration and confusion gathered with the arousal that was breaking free.

His mother had told him that the red kryptonite never turned him into anything else than what he already was- that it simply loosened his inhibitions, made the feelings he’d held so deep inside flourish without a second thought of the consequences that would follow.

_“So, you’re saying I want to kiss Lois?”_

He found the idea absurd, and as he cupped his balls and squeezed the base of his shaft, he knew this was only a means to feel an ounce of relief he felt when he held her in his arms, flying under a full moon. He bit his lip harder now, breath becoming tattered as the thoughts of Lois and red k and kisses _and tattoos on breasts_ flashed through his mind.

He didn’t want to kiss Lois, he just wanted to feel free and lose himself in something that didn’t revolve around being a savior or a fumbling farmboy.

_But it was kissing Lois that led to you feeling that way._

He hates himself for the array of conflicting thoughts, for the way he could still taste her on his tongue and the way he wishes he knew what it was like to be balls deep inside her as she chanted his name, under the guise of a spell gone awry or not.

The need grows deeper now, and soon he’s bucking into his hand with a series of grunts. The images of Lois’s swollen red lips are lasting as he begins to come, and he doesn’t dare to fight picturing her breasts, the low moans of pleasure that escaped her lips when he kissed her, or the way her smaller frame fit against him.

 _“Oh, Lois….”_ He barely recognizes his own voice- raspy and still wanton after coming all over his stomach, the cold night air doing nothing to relieve the flames that licked his skin in a post-orgasmic daze.

It takes him a full minute to clean himself up, change his boxers and plop down on his bed. It’s then that he realizes the sun was beginning to rise. He looks out the window, past the fields of green to the soft of glow of a new day’s sun and he’s lured into a conundrum.

If he didn’t want to kiss Lois, why did he will the day’s beginning to retreat- just so he could return to a sequence of dreams which held the remnants of what it was like to soar.

…

Something in the story must have triggered a new sense of need in him, Lois wonders as she watches him. His once slow and measured strokes were speeding up again, matching his uneven breaths.

She squeezes her legs tighter, the soaked material of her panties becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “So,” she breathes, “How many strokes did it take to get Clark Kent to admit that he liked me?”

Clark grunts, “Lois.”

“That last time was pretty intense, huh?” She closes in on him, breath tickling his ear and he jerks into his hands even more.

“I wanted you so much,” he pants, turning to look at her. Her eyes darkened before him, wisps of hair framing her face and caressing his shoulder. “Even if I didn’t believe it yet.”

“You have me now,” her soft assurance comes with a nibble on his ear, causing Clark to close his eyes. She toys with him for a while, lips and teeth and tongue pulling on his flesh. Her hand found its way to his chest, feeling his muscles contracting as he grew closer.

The hand he’d been using to fondle his balls comes up to grab hold of her cheek, yanking her toward him in a messy kiss. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Their breaths are mingling, making the air around her hot and heavy and her eyes flutter as the fogginess in her brain threatens to take her under, “Let go for me, Clark.”

It’s the neediness in her low voice that starts to make him crumble, a gasp escaping his throat as he screws up his face, _“Lois….”_

She’s rubbing circles on his chest, her breasts nearly pushed up against his left side as she continues to encourage him, “Let go for me, baby,” her lips brush against his cheek, “I want to see you come for me.”

And it’s with those words and the feel of her taut nipples pressed to his skin that pushes him over the edge. He’s groaning out her name as she watches with interest, hand still furiously stroking his cock as every last drop of his come spills onto his stomach- eyes closed and head thrown back.

For a few seconds, their light breathing is the only sound in the otherwise quiet bedroom. It’s not until Clark opens his eyes to meet Lois’ does she speak.

“That was so hot.”

A chuckle breaks free from him, and she’s matching his mirth as their smiles collide sweetly.

“I’m glad you thought so,” he murmurs against her, kissing her once more.

She watches him clean up after himself, using the tissues that were on the nightstand before he’s standing to walk to the bathroom. After watching his bare ass disappear, Lois collapses against the pillows, a low breath leaving her as she realizes it’s almost her turn.

Watching Clark get himself off proved to be a foreplay in enough itself, building her arousal to a level she wasn’t sure she’s reached before.

“Ready?”

She hadn’t noticed Clark reappearing until she felt his body dip next to her, his once flushed faced glowing as per his recent orgasm.

Her tongue pokes out between her teeth, “The question is, _are you?”_

“I think I can manage,” comes his low reply, a smirk in place and it’s then that her eyes wander down his body, noticing he’d put on his boxers again.

She frowns, “That’s not fair.”

His eyes glance to where she was looking, “What? It’s chilly.”

“I thought you didn’t get cold,” she narrows her eyes.

“I think that doesn’t apply to my…“

Lois shakes her head, “Really, Clark? You just jerked off in front of me, but you can’t say _dick?_ ”

“Lois,” he moves to lean on his elbow, “you’re stalling.”

She chews on her inner cheek, knowing he was right. It wasn’t like she was _nervous…_ no. Lois Lane did not get nervous when it came to having sex or doing anything of the dirty nature, especially not with Clark- whom she trusted with her whole self. She was just-

“Are you blushing?”

_“No.”_

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he replies softly, right thumb caressing her left hip bone.

Lois sighs, placing her hand over his, “It’s not that I don’t _want to,_ I just don’t if I can- _you know_ \- with an audience.”

Clark smiles, “Lois, it’s just me.”

“I know.”

It’s a little unsettling, the irony of the situation, and she almost laughs. Her otherwise reserved fiancé had no qualms of touching himself in front of her, but she was the one who’d asked for this fantasy quest in the first place and she was suddenly getting cold feet.

“Aren’t you-?”

“Horny? Yeah,” she scoffs a laugh, “I got a nice visual to get me going.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She bites her lip, eyeing his entire form, “I’m not exactly sure I’m gonna last very long.”

Clark’s lip quirks, “Then maybe I get a double feature for a show tonight.”

Her breathing halts at the low tone of his voice, and suddenly she doesn’t want to wait anymore.

“Oh, screw this.” Her fingers grab the straps of her thong, pulling the material down her legs before throwing it off the bed. She settles back, making herself more comfortable against the pillows.

“Good?” He asks once she settles.

“Yeah.”

Her hands make their way up her stomach, eyes on his face as he watches the trail her fingers take to her breasts, “Remember,” he shifts on his own spot, his boxers already tightening, “A story to go with the show, Miss Lane.”

Lois mewls as two fingers pinch her nipple, “I know, Smallville. You just have to promise not to gloat too much.”

“Why?”

Her eyes close as her other hand begins to move south, “Because the first time I got myself off thinking about you… wasn’t too long after we first met.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we’ll be venturing into Lois’ POV! Please let me know what you think as always xo


	6. Chapter 6

_2005_

Lois tosses and turns under the comforter, eventually sitting upright with an exasperated sigh, pulling up the eye mask she wore. She’d told herself not to feel guilty- which she knew was completely unfair- after witnessing her sister leaving.

The week’s events had been playing around her head all day, and she’d been more or less tampering them down in true Lois fashion- letting the anger and disappointment in Lucy’s behavior drown out the guilt. But by the time the sun went down, she’d found herself at the barn, looking through Clark’s telescope and hoping that by some miracle, the answers were written in the stars.

_Clark._

Lois scoffs, trying but failing to suppress the smile that unwillingly spread. But the plaid-wearing farmboy had somehow weaseled his way into her heart.

_“You’re amazing, Smallville, you always look for the best in people, even when they walk all over you.”_

_“I guess that explains why we’re friends.”_

Lois turns to the side, an uneasy and unfamiliar feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. _No._ She’d been successfully sulking, succumbing to a pity party of one as she thought about her baby sister’s recent shortcomings. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about _Smallville…._

Smallville… the crazed small town she’d stumbled into in the wake of her cousin’s (faked) death. But Smallville- the boy who irked her since the day he showed up at her cousins’ grave, interrupting a vulnerable moment she thought she’d been sharing alone.

_“You’re not alone.”_

How could someone be so irritating yet comforting? Not that she’d ever tell him. She felt bad sometimes- _rarely-_ when she poked and prodded him, pushed his buttons maybe a little too far, ribbed him for his sense of fashion and his goody-too-shoes self. But then, she’d catch him rolling his eyes or even _smiling,_ and she knew a part of him enjoyed this now well-rehearsed verbal dance they’d mastered.

She annoyed him with her overzealous words, punched his shoulder, and teased him about things that made him squirm. He’d retort with a grunt or a quip that contradicted his self-proclaimed Boy Scout persona. And repeat.

Somewhere along the way, they’d become friends. Amidst the daily banter and verbal sparring they’d shared, he’d been there for her when no one else was around. He’d saved her life a couple of times- no thanks to the life of the weird Smallville brought- but more than anything, he’d been there to supply her with an unexpected dose of encouragement.

Lois blinks into the mostly dark room. It more or less paralleled his personality- a little bland and standard. Plaid sheets, _of course,_ a desk with a computer next to books and papers _because of course good farmboys always did their homework and listened to mom and dad,_ and had an- Elmer Fudd night-light.

She chuckles softly into the quiet room, wonders then what other dirty little secrets he hid behind the flannel and book of ethics. If it were any other guy, she’d no doubt find a collection of playboy magazines piled under the mattress, but she didn’t think Smallville was the type to indulge in those sorts of things.

She feels herself squeezing her legs together, a sudden image of Clark’s toned body crossing her mind.

_Whoa, where the hell did that come from?_

She wasn’t blind, she was a red-blooded female and knew that beneath the plaid and coats, Clark Kent was one fit dude. Sure, he’d been the quarterback of the high school- a fact that still surprised her to the day- and the endless farm chores he would partake in gave good reason behind the solid physique he donned, but- still, the man was jacked.

 _Man._ Even if he was just barely eighteen- a year younger yet already more mature than most of the guys she’d seen at Met U. They were a bunch of misogynistic pigs- the lot of them. Hyped up on liquor and hormones, they’d stumbled and slurred their way to get her number, muscles flexing and smiles too annoyingly bright at the notion they _thought_ they knew she would fall to their feet.

But not Clark Kent.

Lois thinks back to her time at the university, when a night of too much competitive drinking had led to a series of consequences- none of which were her fault- but she’d somehow still ended up finding trouble, like always. She’d almost drowned at the hands of a psychotic football player- with whatever hacked up juice that left her paralyzed. But then, true to reputation, Clark had been there to save her, pulling her up from the overflowing water and made it possible for her to see the light of day again.

And he never once held it against her, reminded her he’d acted like her knight in shining armor. He’d tease her, maybe, berated her for not being careful whenever she found herself in a sticky situation, but he never asked for anything in return. And that fact was possibly the most endearing, frustrating, utterly confusing and hottest thing she’s ever seen a guy _not_ do.

Lois lets out a slow breath, eyes heavy with exhaustion, but body tingling with a newfound series of sensations. She was supposed to let herself sulk for a while, think through the recent events that led to her sister’s departure and her attempt to beat herself down for feeling like she never did _enough_ to be the perfect role model.

She wasn’t supposed to let her mind wander to the fumbling farmboy with a plaid fetish and a body that was not allowed to set her skin ablaze every time she remembered their first meeting- nude and toned standing in the middle of a corn field, confused as hell, but no less attractive.

She hadn’t let herself go _there-_ not when her younger cousin seemed to have this exuberant crush on him. She understood now, she thinks, why Chloe, Lana, and the rest of the young women in Smallville found her current housemate irresistible. Not that _she_ did, no. Lois Lane was _not_ into him. He wasn’t unattractive, and she _did_ have eyes, but… _no._

He was too serious sometimes, annoying, _weird,_ too quiet… he wouldn’t be into her type. _Not that she’d wanted him to be._ He was into pretty girls like Lana Lang, liked quiet days on the farm and making his parents proud. 

But… there was something about her overly pure of a friend that made her want to know _more._ She felt like she was slowly starting to peel away the layers of Clark Kent- metaphorically, of course- and she knew despite their unorthodox and strange friendship, he was the best kind of guy the world had to offer, nothing like the guys she’d been with before.

She had a feeling Smallville wasn’t too experienced- if the way he squirmed and looked uncomfortable any time she made a lewd remark was any indication- but she couldn’t deny he’d try his best to make any girl feel good.

Lois squirms against the pillows, the scent of the cotton sheets filling her nostrils, and damn her olfactory sense because they smelled like _Clark._ Of course, it was his room and she was taking residence in his house _again-_ making him take the spot on the couch downstairs. Ever the gentleman.

She closes her eyes, imagining what it’d be like to be with someone like Clark. He was like a gentle giant- arms strong but a heart too pure to be real. She liked to think he’d be honed in on her needs and her needs only, before he’d even let her think about _him._

Oh, _shit._

Lois had already had her share of dreams about Smallville- the man, not the town. And she’d brushed it aside, considering their first meeting was anything but ordinary. The images of a very naked Clark had crossed her subconscious mind almost as much as her conscious had, and she’d woken up with an ache between her legs and sweat lining her body.

She’d chucked it out to not having had any interactions with the male species in a while, _and it’d been a while._

She opens her eyes now, sucking in her cheek as she weighed her options. She couldn’t- could she? It’s been too damn long since she’s had any kind of physical satisfaction- by a man’s hand or her own- but she was in Clark’s bed in Clark’s home, under the roof his too gracious parents had loaned her.

But _fuck it,_ she was tired and horny, and it’d been such a long and grueling week. She’d almost died, dammit. And if it weren’t for Clark Kent and his too strong arms and whatever subdued hero complex he held, she wouldn’t be there.

“It’s a good thing you’re never going to know about this, Smallville,” Lois mumbles to herself. She resigns with a sigh, inching her pajama pants down her legs, taking her panties with them. It felt weird for a moment- to be naked on Clark’s bedsheets that smelled like him. But when she closed her eyes and pictured her tall, dark, and annoyingly handsome friend, she felt any weirdness dissipate as her arousal began a steep climb.

She decides she’s not going to draw this out, she was too damn tired, and it was still a little strange to get herself off in Smallville’s bedroom with his parents next door and the man himself a couple feet away, downstairs.

Her left hand found itself between her legs, her body twitching when she found how wet she was already. Closing her eyes, she let her other wander beneath her top, pinching her nipples to peaks as she thought about what Clark Kent’s hands were capable of doing.

She smirks as she thinks about Innocent Farmer John- fumbling at first, not knowing what to do or where to touch because he’s never done this before. But she’d slowly guide him, show him it was okay to touch her where she needed him to, whispering encouraging words against his ear as she grinded into him, feeling him hard against her already….

Lois arches into her hand, fingers rubbing on her clit before sliding one then two inside of her. She groans, thinking that two of her fingers could easily be one of his- she bites her lip at the thought of two of his larger digits sliding inside of her- hesitantly, slowly, _torturously._

 _“Is this okay?”_ He’d whisper against her, and _God yes, Smallville, just like that._

There was something about this shy, unsure man with a body that contradicted those notions alone that made her body annoyingly hot and bothered. She’d taken to punching him whenever he’d stare at her for too long- those baby blues casting a spell on her heart and thawing that exterior he was starting to see through.

He was a walking conundrum, and sometimes she thought she could read him like a book- knowing what buttons to push- while other times he surprised her with a witty quip, eyes alight at the prospect of being challenged for the first time in his young life.

She thinks about what other ways he could surprise her.

He’d be gentle, of course, maybe a little awkward and she’d probably exhaust herself reaffirming him that what he was doing was okay and felt good, and _Jesus fuck, Clark just fuck me already, I’m not going to break._

Lois eases her digits in and out of herself, picking up the pace as images of Clark lying on top of her filtered through her mind. _He was so big…_ she was a tall girl herself, usually towering over nearly every man she met, but not Clark. He held a good eight inches above her, most than anyone ever has, and she realizes she doesn’t have to wonder what Clark Junior would look like.

She hadn’t let herself linger… _too long…_ and of course, post-struck by lightning amnesiac Clark hadn’t been hard, but if the quick flash to his groin had been a mere shadow of what he’d be like full mast…

Lois’ breathing quickens as her movements grow sloppy. She uses the palm of her hand to press against her clit, grinding into herself as her right hand continued to play with her breasts, inching her closer.

What would it feel like to hold Clark Kent in her hand? Hard and soft at the same time, _big and wonderful,_ making her legs shake and lips wet as he glistened before her, ready for _her._

 _“Oh, God, Smallville, fuck,”_ she cursed the man sleeping peacefully downstairs, unaware to her current state of desire and want _for him._

 _No._ Just his body- his very well-developed body, obscuring any residual teen features. He may still be in high school, but for all intents and purposes, Clark the farmboy Kent was a _man_ and she had the visuals to prove it.

Lois continues to move against her hand, fully succumbing to the idea of what it would be like to come undone by the hands of her friend- innocent and sweet and pure, who could never be interested in a girl like her.

But she knew, if they’d ever take that leap- _and they wouldn’t-_ it’d be the highlight of his life and the ride of _her_ life. He’d be there to catch her when she fell, a mix of jelly limbs and moans that quaked against him as he finally slid inside her, slowly at first but growing more bold with each thrust, with each nip and bite and she’d give, telling him to _go deeper, harder, it’s okay, please, Smallville just- yes right there oh God-_

Lois whimpers as her orgasm takes her suddenly, and she’s jerking into her hand as she pinches her right nipple- pretending she knew what it felt like to have Clark’s lips around her as he moved inside her.

She slumps back as the shudders begin to subside, breathless and sated and a little annoyed with herself.

But as she takes in the darkened room of the man who she now considered a good friend- all annoyances aside- she doesn’t let herself get preoccupied with whatever her mind had stumbled into. It was too late, and she felt emotionally drained from this one week alone.

Alone. Her eyes flutter, looking to the other side of the bed, vacant but still absorbing the remnants of Clark.

She pulls her pants up with a slight groan. She had a feeling that no matter the circumstances- whether he was a foot away or downstairs or on the other side of town- Clark Kent would never leave her alone.

And as she curled under the comforter, eye mask back in place, she had no idea whether she found that idea frustrating or comforting, two things Smallville himself embodied.

…

_“Jesus, Lois.”_

Lois gives him a teasing smile, hand still caressing her lower abdomen as she finished speaking. “Good story?”

“I just-“ he shifts next to her and she knew he was holding himself back from touching himself, or her, “I never- _on my bed…”_

“Threw you for a loop, didn’t it?”

Clark groans, “If I had known-“

“What?” Her voice is breathless as she rolls her other nipple between her fingers, her left hand barely moving over her abdomen, “You’d have blurred upstairs? Given me a tour of Clark Kent’s galaxy?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, “If I had heard you…”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Lois sighs as she finally inches her hand lower, residing between her legs, “You were too hung up on a certain petite brunette at the time.”

“Lois,”

“It’s okay, Clark, that was then,” she groans when she rubs over her clit- already highly sensitized and she watches Clark swallow at the movement, “This is now.”

He watches intently as she continues to touch herself, movements slow and measured, clearly having mastered a routine of indulging in self pleasure. The thought makes him twitch inside his boxers, and he has to grip the comforter beneath so he doesn’t reach out to touch her.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes out softly.

Lois smiles lazily, “I’m glad you think so.” She waits until his eyes meet hers before she slides two long fingers inside, mouth opening on a soundless moan as she does so. His eyes immediately flit to the work her hand was performing, jaw tightening at the sight before him.

_“Oh, fuck, Lois.”_

“You have a filthy mouth, Smallville,” Lois manages to say with a gasp.

“I thought you liked my filthy mouth.”

She bites her lip, watching him watch her was driving her crazy, “I never said I didn’t.”

“Tell me another story,” he says quietly after a moment. Her fingers moved inside her slowly still, more for his benefit than for hers. She couldn’t wait to come already, but knew this was innately his fantasy and she was going to draw it out as long as she could.

She closes her eyes, releasing a breath as she pauses her movements for a beat. When she opens up her eyes again, he’s gazing at her and she has to clear her throat to speak, “We have one in common.”

“Hmm?”

Lois smiles, “A story. You can thank the stars and stripes for this one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the continued support and reviews, they mean a lot! xo


	7. Chapter 7

_2005_

She huffs as she tosses in her bed that night, frustrated and a little confused.

_And horny._

She hadn’t had the luxury to dwell on the events from the club two days before- she’d been too busy getting knocked out and kidnapped by a sleazy pimp (was there any other kind?).

And then, _of course_ Clark Kent had to come to her rescue- not that she wasn’t thankful for it, she’d found the whole situation ridiculous given how many times they’ve stumbled into the same messy situation since they met. Lois had grown accustomed to it by now, more or less accepting the mystery behind the man she considered her friend. It suited him, she thought- quiet and mysterious and a little weird, yet oddly predictable when it came to matters of the heart.

Still, he surprised her. She doesn’t think she’s ever met anyone more reliable, always somehow being there to save her whenever she was on the brink of death- or a kidnapping. And while it hadn’t been easy, she knew she owed him a thank you at the very least, especially when he never expected one in return. It was endearing, it was sweet, it was _Clark._

Lois sighs against her pillows, the apartment at the Talon otherwise still and empty. Chloe was out for the night, catching up with Clark and Lana.

_Lana._

Clark’s very pretty and kind girlfriend, Lana Lang. She feels a twinge of something deep inside her then- it wasn’t jealousy- _no, Lois Lane was not jealous of the farmboy’s girlfriend who was perfect for him…_ mostly. Part of her still found their relationship a little off bounds, despite how well they seemed to fit from the outside. But who was she to judge? They were practically high school sweethearts, and from the tales her cousin had told, she knew Clark was hopelessly in love with the girl next door that had stolen his heart at the tender age of fourteen.

That’s why she felt a sheen of guilt wash over her- as she thought back to a few days prior, when she’d given Clark Kent- her friend and ex-housemate- a lap dance. It wasn’t planned, stumbling into the club with her cousin, donning an absurdly tiny sailor outfit with sequins and a fabric that was not meant to feel comfortable. She felt awkward at first, dancing in front of a room full of middle-aged horn dogs without an ounce of good intentions. But then her instincts kicked in, and she knew she had to put on a good show, lest they be found out.

It wasn’t until she’d let down her hair and stared against the blinding lights of the club did she see _him-_ wearing a suit and an expression that almost made her laugh, if she hadn’t felt so horrified in that moment. It didn’t take much self-convincing before she found herself walking over to him, plastering on a fake smile and asking him what the hell he was doing there.

And after noticing the confused and suspicious expressions from the patrons around them, she knew she had to save face and found herself sitting on his lap.

God, was he big. She knew he had a bulky figure, but even her five-foot-eight-self felt small when she sat herself down on top of him. He’d squirmed, in true Clark Kent form, looking utterly uncomfortable and lost because _of course…_ he had a girlfriend- the very sweet and innocent Lana Lang.

She’d chastised him, however, because they were supposed to be undercover and he was looking at her like she was Jaba the Hut. But as she shifted against him, it was… _hard_ not to feel him stirring beneath her. She rolled her eyes as he awkwardly passed her a twenty dollar bill, tucking it under her too-small bikini top.

And she’d noticed him staring at her chest. For all his reservations and good boy persona that she knew was anything but a front, he _was_ still a man. Nevertheless, she gave him a bit of credit- looking as awkward as he did, one would think he was being tortured. But as she saw his eyes glaring at her chest, and _felt_ him growing harder beneath her, she felt a swell of pride because she’d been able to turn on poor innocent Smallville.

Lois squirms in her bed, turning to the side as she thought about what it felt like to sit on top of her very well-endowed friend. She’d never tell him, though, because while Lois Lane was anything but a prude, she knew it would horrify him to know she felt him. And as much as she enjoyed watching him squirm, she wasn’t about to humiliate him. Plus, she wasn’t sure if she could hide beneath her flushed cheeks at the mere thought of him stirring beneath her.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lois lets out a grumble as her thoughts continue to go back to Clark and his- growing need. But he was a man, and girlfriend or not, it was just part of nature for him to feel even an ounce of arousal when a half-naked woman sat on top of him.

But she wasn’t just any woman, she was his _friend-_ his very dear friend who, despite her efforts to annoy him whenever necessary, would never do anything to hurt him.

 _But you’re not doing anything wrong,_ a little voice in the back of her mind told her, _and it’s not like you hadn’t done this before with him in mind._

Lois gnaws on her lip, trying to find an excuse _not_ to do this. But she could already feel herself growing more wet, and after her failed romance with Arthur, she really wasn’t getting any and it really has been a long ass time….

Defeated and suppressing the bit of guilt that threatened to build, she reached over to the bedside table, pulling out the bottom drawer and fishing out a box from the very back.

Lois opens up the white box, eyeing the purple vibrator with intent and murmurs, “Let’s up the stakes, shall we?” She’d been thankful for investing in the sex toy a couple of weeks back, not knowing when she was going to find a guy worth her time. She’d already put the toy to good use a couple of times, whenever she found herself alone in the small apartment. But this was the first time she’d use it with a certain plaid-wearing man in mind.

She quickly rids herself of her pajamas, pushing them to the side of the bed as she finds a comfortable position against the pillows.

Closing her eyes, she places the phallic shaped toy between her legs, turning it on to the lowest setting. When the vibrating plastic touches her clit, she jumps, an unexpected course of sensations flowing through to her core.

 _“Oh, shit,”_ she whines in pleasure. Gently, she moves the toy against her folds, spreading her wetness as she uses her other hand to pinch and pull at her nipples.

Despite her resignation, she still fights against the images of Clark, tries to focus on the feelings alone. But when she teases her entrance with the device in hand, her thoughts jump back to him and how he felt beneath her at the club.

She suppresses those feelings of guilt again, of the weirdness to getting herself off thinking about her _friend_ who had a _girlfriend._ She suppresses those feelings that confused and irritated her because _dammit_ she was horny, and she needed to find release because Clark Kent and his stupid body decided to react to her when she was pressed against him.

Easing the toy inside her, Lois bites her lip, breathing out slowly because it _has_ been a while and she didn’t get to use the toy as much as she’d liked- even though she’d much rather have a man take its place. But it’d have to do for now.

It’d have to do for now because her luck in love was near vacant. She’d either been interested in assholes or guys with a superhero complex and great abs who wanted to save the world, but couldn’t be there for _her._ No, it seemed like the only constant male in her life was Clark Kent- with his undeniable loyalty and dumb ethical brain who was about the most honorable and infuriating man she’d ever met.

Clark Kent, who only had eyes for one girl and that wasn’t her because _she wasn’t his type and he wasn’t hers. Absolutely not._

A moan escapes her when the toy was fully sheathed inside, the low vibrations adding a level of sensations she wasn’t prepared for, and she realized she wasn’t going to last long. She starts moving the vibrator inside slowly, feeling her inner walls stretching and contracting against it.

Her other hand leaves her chest, snaking down to find her clit as she continued to thrust the toy inside. In and out, slowly but measured, and she thought about what it’d be like to have a certain blue-eyed small town boy insider her.

 _No,_ not boy, _man._ Clark Kent was all man with his chiseled chest and bulging biceps, strong and annoying but _hot_ and awkward and _God, so big and hard._

Lois rocks against herself, finding a new rhythm as she pulls out slowly before thrusting inside a little harder. She figures that’s something Clark would do- set a slow pace, get her going and panting- partly because he didn’t want to hurt her, but also because he could read her mind and body and heart annoyingly well, could gauge her breaths as her fingers dug into his skin, marking him with her nails as she begged him for more.

But he’d just lean down to nip at her cheek and jaw, whispering a husky ‘ _Patience, Lois. Not yet.’_ And God, he’d be so infuriatingly good in bed. Knowing when to start and stop and drive deeper to make her gasp, but not make her come, because this was about _her_ and Clark was a selfless bastard who thought about others before himself. He’d make the journey to her orgasm the best trip of her life, even if she’d beg him for _more, harder, faster,_ but he’d deny her until the very last second- because he seemed to know her more than she knew herself and how fucking dare he?

Lois whines, low and drawn out as she fucks herself with the toy, thinking about the fumbling farmboy with a body of a Greek god and the heart of a saint. She curses him then, for being too nice and too weird, alarmingly annoying and hot all at the same time. She curses him for making her feel like she was more than she thought she was, for saving her and being a good friend, no matter how many times she punched him and called him _Smallville._

 _“Oh, Smallville…”_ her fingers rub herself harder, faster, driving the toy deeper as her eyes screwed shut, imagining a world where she was with Clark and he was the one making her see galaxies. A world where she was his type and he was hers, where they came home to each other and made each other feel good in all the ways she thought they’d had the potential to do so.

That other world was a mere fantasy, and she used it to fuel her current desires and wanton needs because he was with someone else, and she was alone in this tiny apartment thinking about her friend who’d had the audacity to get _hard_ when she sat on his _lap._

A shiver runs down her spine, thinking back to the way his eyes bulged when they settled on her breasts- confined to a tiny prison of red and blue and stars, and _God, Clark Kent would make sure she saw stars behind her eyes- the whole damn universe as he made her come undone._

He may currently have a girlfriend- a girlfriend whom he loved more than anything- but his body had contradicted those facts, made her know he was attracted to her, even if it was just a small part of him that’d been more or less dragged out.

And then she’d thanked him, hesitantly but needing to make sure he knew he was a great friend. And because she was _Lois_ and he was _Clark_ she had to make sure to blackmail him with the knowledge she had about a certain cartoon character. Then he’d opened up his mouth, smiled in such an un-Clark way- cheeky and teasingly- saying _“Aye Aye… sailor.”_ It’d left her flustered and confused, slightly aroused and bothered and without a way to hide from those emotions.

Because fuck, Clark Kent- her friend, her _Smallville-_ was _ho_ t and he was just as affected by her as she was by him and she couldn’t stand it.

 _“Yes yes, oh God Smallville, yes.”_ Lois comes on a shuddering breath then, Clark’s nickname on her lips as she quakes against the slowing movements of her vibrator.

It takes her a moment to get her breathing in check again, sliding the toy out with a whimper before settling it on the bed beside her. It takes her another full ten minutes to gather enough strength to get up, clean the toy and redress before settling against her pillows again.

 _I can sleep now,_ she thinks as she curls into herself, only an ounce of residual guilt remaining in the pit of her stomach. She pushes down those thoughts again- of shame and a whole lot of weirdness because how many times will Clark be at the forefront of her fantasies?

She just had to make sure she didn’t give him a lap dance again, didn’t see him naked or think about that smile that made her heart flip for too long.

Because he had a girlfriend and they were just friends. They were friends who saved each other and constantly found themselves in ridiculous and strangely dangerous situations. And that’s what Lois kept telling herself as she finally surrendered to sleep.

…

“You okay, Clark?” Lois grins, voice a little breathless as her fingers continued to move inside her. She watches his hands fisting against the sheets, knowing he was holding himself back from reaching inside his boxers again.

“Lois,” because that’s all he can say at this point. She’d just told him she got herself off thinking about him again, how she used her vibrator because she needed something tangible after feeling him against her legs.

“I know,” she sighs, understanding the emotions mixed in with the heightened level of arousal he was experiencing. Because she felt them too when she watched him stroke himself and he told her about the times he’d jerked off thinking about her. She felt them now as she fucked herself slowly with her fingers, wishing and imagining they were his because they were so much better, thicker and longer and a perfect fit.

But this was about his fantasy and she was determined to give him a damn good one at that. And by his reaction- his once more tented boxers and labored breath- she knew she was delivering.

He clears his throat, leaning in closer, “Do you want me to get your toy?”

Lois almost laughs, watching the near desperation in his eyes, but her palm hits her in just the right spot and she arches into her hand as her fingers find her g-spot, making her gasp, “I’m too close.”

Clark nods in understanding, shifting to get even closer until their breaths mingled and God, he smelled too good, “Then come for me, Lois. Let go.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, eyes hooded as she tried to hold his gaze, attentive and needy as he waited for her to fall. He’d spoiled her, she thinks, with his thick fingers and heavenly tongue and big cock- her fingers alone don’t have the same effect anymore. But when he’s looking at her with adoration and lust, blue eyes near onyx and chest bare, encouraging her to let go _for him-_ she shatters.

It’s a string of _“Oh, God, Clark yes, Clark, fuck, I love you,”_ that meets his ears like the sweetest song he’s ever heard. Her eyes are screwed shut, despite her best efforts to keep them open so she could watch him watch her as she came. But after too much foreplay and a lot of teasing, she couldn’t bear to hold back as the spring inside her fully released.

It takes her a beat before she breathes out contently, eyes fluttering open to see the softest smile on her fiancé’s face.

“Hi."

“Hi,” he echoes just as sweetly. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the sweat against her skin. “How’re you feeling?”

Lois lets out a chuckle, easing her hand from its residence between her legs, “Funny, funny man.” Before she knows it, he’s taking hold of her wrist, keeping his gaze on hers as he guides her glistening fingers to his lips. He sucks them into his mouth slowly, licking off the remnants of her juices with a pleasing moan.

“Jesus, Clark.”

His eyes crinkle with mirth and an ounce of perversity, watching her own mouth gape with a new level of arousal. He pulls her fingers out, kissing the inside of her wrist before gently letting her arm fall back.

“You know,” Lois breathes, hating the desperation in her voice, “we can skip ahead, get yourself some relief too.”

Tempting as it may, Clark shakes his head, “You know the deal, Lane. You still owe me two stories.”

Lois groans, shifting on the bed to sit upright more, “I’m suddenly regretting this whole thing.”

He grins wider now, maybe a little deviously, but he did love to watch Lois Lane squirm, especially by his own admissions. “Come on, Lois,” he leans against his elbow again, “show and tell.”

She licks her lips, “Fine.” She knew which story came next, and a new twinkle in her eyes appeared. “This one’s going to be familiar to you as well.”

“Oh?”

“Valentine’s day and red Kryptonite.”

Clark swallows at the mention of their spell-induced night of passion- a night that almost took them to the point of no return. He waits her out for a moment, watches her wide lips and flushed face with interest, but she doesn’t budge.

He nearly groans, “Lois?”

“About that vibrator… you want to go grab it for me?” She barely has time to catch the flash of surprise in his eyes, lets out a breathless chuckle as he speeds to find the purple toy before he returns just as quickly. “Quick work, Smallville,” she grabs hold of the silicon he held, “I always liked that about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left! Up next is Lois’ version of the events from Crimson. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts xo


	8. Chapter 8

_2007_

The water around Lois sloshes as she settles against the porcelain tub. She closes her eyes, letting the week’s events wilt away.

She thought she would be used to it by now- the never-ending wacked out situations she always seemed to find herself in. Chloe had told her of Smallville’s weirdness, no thanks to the meteor shower that had rained down on them nearly two decades before. And she’d already come across her fair share of “meteor freaks”, possessions, and psychotic men (and women).

But nothing could have prepared for her for a Valentine’s day love potion in the form of red lipstick- one that had apparently led her to fawn over Clark Kent.

Lois groans as she recalls the stories her cousin had told her- dressing up provocatively, showing up at the Kent farm and then the Daily Planet to seduce Clark. _Getting a heart shaped tattoo with their names._ She’d nearly fainted when she saw the red and black ink on her chest, only calming when she realized it wasn’t permanent and it would fade in just a couple of days.

Grabbing her luffa and body wash, she squeezes the lavender scented soap on the blue sponge, lathering it up before mindlessly running it across her arms.

She thinks back to when she met Clark at the barn- the awkwardness between them palpable, even if she didn’t remember anything. She’d been relieved when Clark reassured her nothing more had happened between them.

_“No, Lois. I think I’d remember.”_

_“Of course you would. Highlight of your life.”_

She’d punched his arm, given him a wayward smile before she turned to leave. But before she could make it downstairs, he had given her the mix CD she’d made for him- White Snake. It’d taken her by surprise, considering she’s never made anyone a mix CD or tape or anything of the sort. And sure, she’d been under some spell that made her obsessed with Clark, but she knew the feelings had had to run deep for her to resort to dedicating a CD of her favorite band to _Clark._

A part of her was frustrated she didn’t remember what had happened- she didn’t like to be kept in the dark, especially when she’d apparently thrown herself at the farmboy with a tattoo to boot. Another part of her was glad she couldn’t recall whatever had transpired between them- it’d been awkward enough to face him and she didn’t want to relive that.

It wasn’t until she went to bed that night, where her subconscious began to loosely piece back together the night before. It was flickers of lips and tongues, of roaming hands and jackets being tossed to the side. They’d made out at the Daily Planet and then at Oliver’s apartment, and she hoped her ex-boyfriend didn’t have a recording of that night, thanks to his fancy surveillance system- she doesn’t think she could take it. It was bad enough that she knew her and Clark had taken it upon themselves to venture into his apartment and make out like horny teenagers, she didn’t need to see it.

But she saw it in her dreams, in flashes and short sequences. She’d woken up panting, sweat lining her body and a growing ache between her legs. She’d remembered what it felt like to have Clark Kent’s tongue in her mouth, what his large and very capable hands felt against her skin.

At one point, she even remembered feeling so free and light that it felt like she was flying. It was enough to make her scoff and turn over in bed, unwilling to succumb to her arousal like she’d had in the past. Her wounds from her recent breakup had barely healed, and she’d heard that her and Clark had made it to the Luthor mansion, only for Clark to drag Lana away, leaving her to sulk.

And Lois Lane did _not_ sulk. Not about any man- billionaires or farmboys. She knew Clark had been infected too, somehow, from whatever the hell kind of sick potion was in that lipstick. Chloe had filled her in what happened on that side as well, how Clark felt guilty for ruining Lana’s night, hurting her and even his ex-best friend.

It was just like Clark- selfless and loving Clark to put others first and feel shame for hurting those around him, whether or not he’d been conscientious of his actions.

_Clark._

With his big hands, large abled body- hard yet supple underneath her touches. His mouth- wondrous and thorough, willing to give as much as he got.

Lois pauses her movements, dropping the luffa onto the water where it made a soft splash. Her brows furrow, an annoyed whine leaving her lips when the ache she felt that morning returned with a vengeance.

_“Damn it, Smallville.”_

She lets herself have this moment, closes eyes as she recalls the dreams that filled in the gaps no one else could fill for her. She couldn’t be certain that everything she saw in her dreams happened, not when she’d felt like she was flying at some point, for God’s sake. But she took what she was given, used the flitting memories her subconscious provided her to fuel her fantasy, if only to get off just this once.

Just once more with him in mind.

Her hand eases between her legs, finds her center beneath the water, and slides a finger inside. She moans against the gentle movements, takes advantage of the images still fresh in her mind to guide her along.

Gone was the guilt she’d felt the last time she touched herself thinking about him. He wasn’t with Lana anymore, and she wasn’t with Ollie. He’d been a great guy, considerate and charming- and it didn’t hurt that he was rich with rock hard abs and a decent enough stamina.

But like everyone else, he couldn’t prioritize her. And it hurt, but she’d be dammed if she didn’t get over him. Because it’d been that hurt and lingering feelings of self-doubt and pity that let her be dragged to the Talon on Valentine’s day by Jimmy Olsen.

That led her to seek out some quack of a fortune teller who gave her the poisoned lipstick and made her go gaga for Clark Kent.

She was frustrated and annoyed, because nothing seemed to be enough to heal her wounds or make the hurt go away. She’d get over the billionaire playboy eventually, even if she thought she had fallen in love with him. But it seemed to be a constant now- falling for the wrong guy in one form of another, getting hurt and leaving her crying or physically frustrated, to the point she’d run to get her adrenaline going, leaving her too spent to dwell on feelings.

And she couldn’t focus on feelings or guys now, not when she thinks she’s found her calling- investigating and writing for topics that mattered, finding the truth and revealing the scumbags responsible for wreaking havoc.

But she was a girl with _needs,_ and right now she needed to get off because Clark Kent had found yet another way to slither into another messy situation with her in tow. Except this time, it was her who dragged him away, seduced to the point of him falling under the same spell she was on.

He’d been enthusiastic- if her dreams were anything to go by- smile a little too wicked to belong to the Clark she’d grown to know, hands rough and needy, body willing and following her every move.

It makes it easier, she decides as she sinks another finger inside, to pleasure herself thinking about _that_ Clark Kent. The Clark from her dreams- the one under a spell and more than willing to fulfill her every need and desire. The Clark that was enthusiastic to kiss her and didn’t coward or shy away.

A Clark that could just be her type and she could be his. She refused to let herself think about Clark- the farmboy who was flustered and surprised when she showed up at the barn. That Clark was her friend, and while she’d long since admitted that he was eye candy and a good friend, _he was just that._

He wasn’t the same man in her dreams, the one who pushed her up against the wall and stuck his tongue down her throat. The one who pressed his body against hers to make sure she felt all of him.

She digs her fingers deeper inside, thrusting them as she cups her breasts with her other hand, kneading and tweaking, taking turns in a desperate attempt to make herself come already.

It doesn’t take long, as her eyes shut, and she wills the images to keep coming. And it’s the flashes of Clark looming over her, hunger in his eyes as he snapped her shirt apart that does it for her. She arches into her hand with a string of curses leaving her lips, riding the waves of her orgasm.

It was fast and frenzied and exactly what she needed that night. She didn’t have time to dwell on any matters of the heart- not when it was already fragile and barely healing.

Lois slumps back against the porcelain with a grunt, only then noticing the water around her had grown cooler. It’s somehow comforting, the cold helping to sooth her beating heart and scorching skin post-orgasmic daze.

She hopes it’d be enough for now, that her dream-fueled release could tamper whatever remaining emotions she felt toward Ollie or dream Clark. Because the real Clark was still an enigma for her, and after her recent breakup, she couldn’t risk her heart getting shattered by the one man she couldn’t bear losing.

…

“I can’t believe you never told me about that,” Clark murmurs against her.

“You never told me about yours until tonight, Smallville,” Lois throws back. She’d settled the vibrator between her legs, letting the soft vibrations work on her clit before moving it against her folds, back and forth. “There’s a lot we’re learning tonight, it’s part of the deal.”

“I thought about that night a lot,” he confesses softly, taking a finger to lightly scratch the lateral side of her thigh. He knew they weren’t supposed to technically touch each other, but after her last story, he couldn’t _not._

“Yeah,” Lois chuckles, the noise coming out strangled as she begins to ease the toy inside, “So I’ve heard.”

He watches intently for a moment, tongue snaking out to wet his lips as she sheathes the purple toy completely.

_“Oh, God.”_

“Good?”

Lois bites her lips, eyes screwed shut as she tried to breathe through the sensations of being filled. It was a good seven inches with a decent girth, nothing like Clark, but good enough to do the trick.

“It’s no Superman,” she husks, “But it’ll do.”

Clark smirks, continuing his soft caress against her skin. It was all he could do not to reach inside his boxers and relieve some of the pressure, but she’d held herself back when it’d been his turn, and Clark always played a fair game.

“I hate that you were hurting so much,” he says after a moment.

Her movements cease, “So were you.”

“We were both kind of a mess back then, huh?”

Lois hums, continuing to move the vibrator in and out, keeping a steady pace, “But we had each other. Even if it was just one night, sort of.”

He matches her smile, leaning forward because _fuck it._ He places a gentle kiss on her lips, pulling back to watch her eyes fluttering, mouth hanging as a low moan escaped. Her movements grew quicker then, needier and desperate.

“Tell me another story,” he purrs against her mouth, stalling her moving hand with his.

Lois whines, scrunching up her face in disappointment, “Clark, _what the hell?_ ”

“I want you to enjoy this.”

His cheek caresses hers, making her eyes close again. His skin was mostly soft, but he had a short stubble that tickled her and sent a wave of electricity coursing through her veins. Lois curled her toes against the mattress, back curling against the vibrator still inside her, but now his hand was on top of hers and all she could do was slowly grind against it, but it wasn’t enough.

_“I am.”_

Clark chuckles, pulling back to gaze down at her. Their eyes dart to where their hands were and God, if the sight alone wasn’t hot enough to almost make her fall. “One more story, Lane. And then you can come.”

His fiancée grumbles against him, “Whatever happened to coming more than once?”

“I want to wait this one out, trust me.”

She bites her lip, knowing she was going to give in with those last two words. Because she trusted him- she trusted him with her whole life and heart.

Even if she wanted to kick his bullet proof ass every once in a while.

“Fine,” she relents. When she continues to move the toy more gently inside, his hand retreats. It was slow enough to get her going, but not enough to actually make her come, at least not yet.

“So?”

His eyebrows are arched, waiting for her next move, and she decides then which story to go with. She didn’t think she could keep going for much longer, and she wanted to wipe that light smirk off his face already.

“It was the night you told me we were going to be desk mates.”

She knows he wasn’t expecting that by the way his head tilts, curiosity shadowing his features.

“Trust me,” Lois exhales, “it surprised me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left! Would love and appreciate any reviews as always, I love hearing what you think xo


	9. Chapter 9

_2008_

It’s not until she’s standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom, bunny pajamas on and ready for her nightly routine, does Lois realize she’s smiling.

Her face falls suddenly.

She hadn’t realized she’d spent the better part of the last half hour she’d been home thinking about a certain plaid wearing, ever-infuriating farmboy.

Except, he wasn’t just a farmboy anymore. Now he was Clark Kent- the reporter at the Daily Planet, sitting across from her.

It was just like Clark, to disappear and reappear just as quickly into her life. One minute she’s holding him as he cried over his lost love, and then he’s helping her in a fight to save Chloe. Of course, there’d been a month long gap where he’d been apparently tracking down her cousin, but it was enough to send her emotions into a spiral.

Then, he’d showed up at the Planet, wielding a smile too bright as he twisted around in his chair, annoying the hell of out of her with every squeak it made. She would admit she missed their daily banters- her sass combined with a quip or a grunt from him as they fell into yet another dangerous situation, for the sake of justice.

Hell, she’d even admit to missing _him._ A month away from the fumbling man who she considered to be a great friend had made her realize her life wasn’t as bright without a healthy dose of Smallville. And so, they’d reunited and quickly fell into the easy rhythm they’ve perfected over the years.

But it wasn’t until he told her he’d be working at the Daily Planet, right alongside her, did the feeling in her heart and gut leap out.

_“I’m gonna be closer to home. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors, Lane.”_

She decides not to dwell too much on whatever the hell he meant when he said _home._ He couldn’t mean- her? Clearly not.

Lois scoffs at her reflection, grabbing her toothbrush and continuing on with her routine. It’d been a long ass day and she needed her sleep, needed to not think about farmboys turned reporters. About the look he’d given her when he told her he was going to be working right across from her, starting Monday.

And she couldn’t think about the implications of what it meant to have Clark Kent sitting in front of her, irritating her, giving her those- smiles and distracting her from her work.

_“I’m gonna be closer to home.”_

Her lips widen as she reaches for her cleanser then, and she catches it in her reflection as she did earlier.

_No._

She’d caught herself smiling despite herself when Clark left, contradicting her initial reaction when she lifted his name plate and confirmed he was going to be beside her everyday now. She felt a surge of trepidation, comfort, and something akin to _giddiness_ that irked her more than anything.

She scrubs and dries her face, tries to focus on the task at hand. Continuing with her nightly routine, she put on some moisturizer and eye cream, gave herself one last look in the mirror and left the bathroom.

Standing in the middle of the quiet apartment, she lets her thoughts return to Clark. She’d grown comfortable in calling him her friend, and despite their constant back and forth, she knew it was just part of their relationship- _friendship._ They took turns getting on each other’s nerves, bantered, argued, saved each other and held the other in their arms as they cried about a breakup.

Lois bites her lip, thinking back to one of the last times Clark had been at her apartment- taking her in his arms as she cried over her breakup with Ollie. He’d held her as she cried, rubbed a soothing hand on her back until her tears subsided. It was just as easy to be there for him when Lana left, and seeing Clark Kent crying was something she didn’t need to witness again. She hadn’t had to think twice before she jogged into his arms and let him hold her as he sobbed over his failed relationship.

“It’s fine, we can do this,” Lois sighs to herself, acceptance in her voice as she trudges toward her bed. They could do this because they were friends, she’d grown comfortable being around him- she knew she could rely on him for anything, and he’d have her back just as she’d have his, that’s how they worked. It wouldn’t be a stretch to consider him her best friend now, and now she’d just see him every day, at work.

It’d be fine.

It’d have to be fine because she didn’t feel anything else toward him. There’d been a moment, a month ago when she’d been investigating Lex Luthor, where he’d told her to promise him to be careful. She’d teased him, telling him he sounded worried and he’d rolled his eyes. But there’d been a shift somewhere between the time he held her in his arms, and she held him in hers. It seemed the more time they spent apart, the more she wanted to be around him. And the more she found herself in his presence, the more she realized she didn’t want to let him go.

And it scared her, so she pushed the feelings aside and excused it as a mere a growth in their friendship- they just tolerated each other more now.

But now… now he was going to be sitting across from her every day. The Daily Planet wasn’t exactly a nine to five job- it was grueling hours of battling writer’s block against constant deadlines, it was putting yourself out there on the streets of Metropolis to get the biggest scoop before anyone else could. It was long hours in and outside of the bullpen, and while she hadn’t been assigned to watch over him, she felt like he was her responsibility now, because she cared about him.

After seeing him breaking down, crying over Lana’s departure, she felt a surge of protectiveness toward him. And while she knew he didn’t need protection- not with his strong build and the way he’d carried himself as they went to rescue Chloe- not to mention all the other times he’d been there to save her- she still felt this intrinsic need to be there for him. And she knew what it was like to start at a new highly demanding job- one as notorious as The Daily Planet- so she felt like it’d be her job to guide and show him the ropes.

Still, all caring aside and whatever new wave of protectiveness that came over her, she felt a spark of irritation gnawing at her.

 _“I can’t believe I’m gonna be babysitting Smallville,”_ Lois grumbles as she settles in bed, trying to let the exasperation take over. Because exasperated, she could do. Annoyed and irritated, she could do. Worried with a heavy dose of excitement because her best friend was going to be spending almost every waking hour with her now was _not_ something Lois Lane could afford to think about.

She’d long since liberated the notion they could ever be anything _more._ She had accepted the sole idea was something inevitable that resided at the very back of her mind after everything they’d been through; lap dances and love spells gone awry. But ever since her breakup with Ollie- that left her feeling more vulnerable and hurt than she’d ever dared to let herself feel- and after watching Clark crumble when his own love left him behind, she’d swept those feelings and thoughts under a rug and threw it in the darkest trenches of her mind.

But her heart was another matter, and it beat faster every time he smiled at her, touched and held her because Clark Kent was the greatest friend she’s ever had.

And now with his sudden reappearance in her life, those feelings came tumbling back and she’d been so blindsided by his return that she never expected him to stay… _closer to home- to her._

Lois reaches to her bedside table, turns off the lamp and hesitates. She sucks in her cheek, weighs her options for a moment, heart racing and mind stumbling with a myriad of thoughts about her Clark situation. She knew things were going to be different. They were going to see each other a lot more now, would be working side by side as she held his hand through his newfound career, making sure he didn’t fall flat on his face. And while they’d lived together before, she knew it was going to be different now.

Because back then she could excuse those feelings as a mere physical attraction, fleeting as they were amidst denials and kidnappings and love interests. But they’d grown closer since, and she saw more and different sides of the otherwise quiet farmboy that drove tractors and stacked hays and rolled his eyes every time she talked for a little too long.

And she couldn’t let herself go there, couldn’t let those thoughts wander because they’d be more than friends now- they’d be desk mates and co-workers and partners. The last thing she needed was a workday with a heavy dose of Clark Kent’s charming smile- _not that she’d ever tell him-_ igniting the growing fire inside of her and distracting her until she got home to relieve it.

With a resounding sigh, Lois reaches into her drawer and quickly retrieves her trusty vibrator.

“Okay, mister, it’s you and me tonight, and tonight only.”

Lois makes quick work of her pajama bottoms, pulling them down like she’s done many times before. Once they were far enough down, she placed the vibrator between her legs. She didn’t want to overthink it this time, because she knew it had to be the last- the last time she indulged in herself thinking about Clark Kent. Because he’d be working beside her every day now, and she couldn’t afford to let her feelings drive forward because they were just temporary, they had to be.

They’d grown closer in the past year, and she didn’t want to risk the friendship they held because she couldn’t handle his baby blues, or the one-hundred watt smile he threw her way when he wanted to rile her up.

_Besides, it’s not like he saw me as anything more than his annoying friend._

An annoying friend who held him when he cried and saved his life almost as much as he saved hers. It was just how they worked this unorthodox friendship that’d transpired into something more tangible and real and honest- even if he did still hold a great deal of mystery.

She felt like she knew him pretty well- they’d lived together and were close friends- but there was still a part of him that seemed hidden in the shadows, a part that intrigued her but didn’t make her want to prod. She knew him well enough to know all the important parts, and she’d never make him feel truly uncomfortable, push him away with her big mouth and reporter brain. He was more important to her than that.

Lois works the vibrator inside herself with practiced movements, eyes closing as she drives herself closer to release. Her mouth opens on a gasp as it hit her g-spot, images of Clark running rampant through her brain and edging her on.

It’d have to be the last time, because continuing to do so would be admitting to herself that there was something more between them, something inevitable that’d been brewing since the day she waltzed into his life. And there was nothing romantic between Lois Lane and Clark Kent.

She begins a frantic race to the end, thrusting the purple toy inside her a little faster and it was so easy because she was _so wet,_ and God, the annoying power of Clark Kent and his strong build and jacked arms.

She lets herself think about what it would be like to have him above her, smirk in place as he pushed inside her.

That smirk- she wonders what it’d be like to have it between her legs, bringing her closer to the edge with his tongue and lips. The new images spur her on, and with a choked sob, Lois is exploding around her vibrator.

_“Oh, God, Clark….”_

She spasms into herself, enjoys the crashing waves of her orgasm until she’s lying spent and sweating.

Her eyes open suddenly, wide and staring up at the ceiling. She realizes then she called him by his first name, not the nickname she’d given him all those years back- helping her hide behind the feelings and emotions she’d been too stubborn and unwilling to face.

She pulls out the toy with a groan, exhausted and annoyed and maybe a little emotional. It takes her a while to fall asleep, tossing with the discomfort of knowing she’d let herself get off _again_ thinking about her best friend. Her best friend… who was going to be working with her now, seeing her every day, annoying and prodding and adding an assortment of confusing feelings.

A multitude of feelings she knew he couldn’t possibly feel because Clark only saw her as a friend- a good friend who held him when he cried over the only love he might ever have.

So, she let herself have tonight as a last resort to shutting off that box of forbidden emotions she felt toward her plaid brandishing friend. Come Monday morning, she’d help him settle at work as her new partner, be the good friend she knew he saw her as and get through the day. Then, repeat.

It was their new normal, and she was accepting of the challenge. Because it meant tidying up loose ends too confusing and overbearing for her to handle. It meant moving on and not dwelling on ridiculous feelings that had reared an ugly head when he’d shown up again.

It meant getting over whatever the hell she was feeling for Clark Kent, and she couldn’t wait to leave them behind so they could move forward.

…

Clark watches as Lois continues to pleasure herself, attentive and overwhelmed as she retells her last story. Her words were slurred, voice breathless as she got closer to release, but he held onto every syllable with great interest.

“It wasn’t the last time, wasn’t it?”

Lois smiles, eyes hooded as she headily continued her movements, “No, Clark, it wasn’t.”

She half expects to see him gloating, reveling at the idea of her continuing to get herself off thinking about him even when she told herself she wouldn’t continue to do so. But instead, he frowns as he inches closer to her.

“When was the next time?”

“Nuh uh, Smallville, that’s it, _oh God,_ deal’s a deal. No more stories.” Her words are nearly jumbled as desperation grows, face scrunching up as she grows even closer.

“You don’t have to tell me the whole story,” he quickly reassures, placing a gentle hand on the apex of her thigh. His touch ignites a series of electric jolts, and she’s mewling out his name as her orgasm begins to build. “Just tell me _when.”_

Lois’ mouth opens on a gasp, and he watches intently as a hand reaches down to rub at her clit in quick successions. “After… you saved me,” she lets out a whimper, trying to spew out the words as quickly as possible because she was _so fucking close,_ “when I was Stiletto.”

Clark remembers the time she’d taken up the alter-ego- images of skin-tight leather and a mask sifting through his mind. He recalls being on the floor, weakened by green kryptonite when Lois fell through a glass ceiling just to save his ass. He’d been powerless, but when he saw a bullet was about to take her from him, he’d powered through the excruciating pain and took it for her.

He feels a wave of love wash over him, overwhelming and freeing all at once. He reaches to cup her cheek, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much,” he rests his forehead against her, watching as she bit her lip harder, “Let go for me, Lois. That’s it, I’ll catch you.”

It’s always his voice that does it for her, and she’s gasping out a loud moan, arching her back against the mattress as full ecstasy takes her under.

He holds her close as she works through the spasms of her orgasm, kissing her skin gently, whispering reaffirming words she could barely hear through the buzzing in her ears.

It’s a minute or two before she detaches the purple toy from her body, tossing it over to the other side of the mattress. She pulls him down to her, needing to hold him closer.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Clark says after a moment, kissing her sweat soaked skin just beneath her jawline. He feels her pulse racing, slowing just a fraction with each heavy breath she takes.

She chuckles lazily, “Did it live up to your standards?”

Clark pulls back to place a kiss on her lips, “More than.”

Lois grins up at him, meeting him again for another kiss. She presses her tongue against his opening, sliding it alongside his own as she curves her body to him. He groans into her mouth, grinding his bulge against her center.

“For as much,” Lois begins between kisses, “as I enjoyed,” she pushes down his boxers and they use their legs to pull it down until he was freed, “our little self-gratification show and tell…” she pulls back to look up at him, skin flushed and eyes bright, “I prefer the real thing.”

With that, she uses her legs to lock them behind his ass, pulling him down until he was poised at her entrance.

Clark grunts, “You’re not tired?”

“Please,” Lois sighs as he begins to slowly ease inside, “That was just foreplay.” He finally sheathes himself completely inside of her, twin moans escaping them.

He begins a gentle thrust, kissing her just as softly as his hands roam over her body- fingers pressing and caressing in time with the movements.

“Harder, Clark,” Lois pleads against him. Despite already coming twice, nothing was comparable to the feeling of having the love of her life moving inside her.

“You know,” he rasps as he begins to plunge harder, deeper inside of her, “all those years- of imagining what it would be like… to be inside you,” he nibbles at her cheek, “nothing could have prepared me for the real thing.”

“That’s- _oh, fuck right there-_ what I’m saying- _oh yes just like that,_ _Clark_.”

Clark smiles into her skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses until he could suck on her pulse point. He sets a new rhythm, thrusting into her in short strokes before pulling back to thrust harder. It spurs her on, and her nails were now digging into his back, her throat more exposed as she mewled and begged him to “ _keep going, please, more, God yes, fuck just like that, Clark.”_

Having listened to- _and watched-_ Lois telling him about all the times she touched herself thinking about him had ignited a need deep inside of him. He felt a male sense of pride, knowing she’d thought about him as he’d thought about her all those years before they were even work partners. Despite the denials and throwaway punches to dilute whatever emotional turbulence they’d found themselves in, they’d still somehow turned to each other every now and then, needing to fill a need they never thought would come to fruition.

It propels him forward, makes sure she knows he’d never let them go back to a time where they had to second guess their feelings, place them in the far back of their minds and only bring them to the front when they needed a little release.

“You mean… everything… to me, Lois,” he breathes against her ear, thrusts growing frantic as he continues to drive home, “I love you so much.”

She means to respond, but the tightness in her belly begins to unfurl and she throws her head back.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

Lois could only nod, snaking a hand between them to rub herself. But before her hand could make it past her bellybutton, he’s yanking her hand away, placing it above her head.

“It’s my turn,” Clark breathes. Her eyes meet his, clouded with desire as he gently pushes two fingers inside her mouth. She wets them for him, sucks them with enough vigor to release a low grunt from his own lips. He pulls them out and places them between them, blindly finding her bundle of nerves and sets to rub.

Lois closes her eyes, fully surrendering to the electric waves coursing through her and she shatters with a keening wail, Clark’s name a prayer on her lips.

He continues to piston himself into her, the movements turning sloppy as he gets closer, and it isn’t long before he’s releasing inside of her with a series of grunts and her name at the forefront.

He collapses onto her with a heavy sigh, holding her in his arms as their labored breaths mix. His skin is scalding, sweaty forehead pressed against her own as their eyes flutter open.

They grin, wide and lazily, trying to control their breathing. Clark leans down, pressing his lips to hers before he’s pulling out and gathering her in his arms, her back to his chest.

He places a kiss to her shoulder blade, “You’re amazing.”

“Mmm, tell me something I don’t know.”

Clark chuckles, lightly shaking his head at her antics. They lay side by side, enjoying the silence in the still of the night. Just outside, he hears the frantic world of Metropolis, but nothing alarming enough to send him into Superman mode. He was glad for that, if only for selfish reasons so he could enjoy a quiet moment with the love of his life.

“Lois,” he speaks after a moment, knowing she was still awake by the beat of her heart and still shallow breaths, “Do _you_ have any fantasies?”

She’s quiet for a moment, her thumb lightly caressing the inside of his palm that was pressed against her chest, “Yeah, sleeping in until noon.”

His lips stretch, pressing them against her back, “Not what I meant, Lane.”

She turns in his arms then, a sleepy smile on her lips, “I have a box full of fantasies, mister.”

He hums in response, lightly caressing her skin, knowing it was lulling her to sleep. “Well,” he pulls her closer to him, their usual cocooned position after a night full of love-making, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life exploring them with you.”

Lois grins into his chest, pressing a feather light kiss to his skin, “Ditto, Smallville.”

It doesn’t take long for their breathing to deepen, pulling them into a dreamless sleep- their reality proving to be more substantial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last chapter for this little story. I hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks to those who’ve been on the journey and have given me feedback, it means a lot.
> 
> As always please let me know what you think! I may be persuaded to continue this story with some other future moments paired with more flashbacks, just let me know if you’d be interested.
> 
> I also have some other stories in the works, and I’ll hopefully post them in the upcoming weeks. Take care xo

**Author's Note:**

> The subsequent chapters will be longer (there should be a total of 9), and I hope to post a new one every day or every other day, depending on my schedule. 
> 
> I'll also be posting updates through fanfic (username: cloismagic) and my cloisfics twitter (@cloisfics). There's also a graphic I made to go along with this story, which you can find on my tumblr (@loismagic)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and please let me know what you thought! xo


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